Harry Potter and the Arc of Death
by William Bexley
Summary: When the Reikai sends two of their detectives to check out an anomaly on Europe, they stumble into a war. They will now send their four best men into it. Harry Potter / Yu Yu Hakusho Crossover
1. Down the Rabbit Hole

_Timeline located at Harry Potter's Sixth Book, "Half Blood Prince", and after the "Dark Tournament" Saga of Yu Yu Hakusho._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own either Harry Potter or Yu Yu Hakusho. I only own the OC that will appear. And if you sued me for it, you'd probably only get a bunch of sketching, a worn-out laptop, and a PS2._

_**While reading this fic, you'll encounter**: Death of minor/major characters, possible shonen-ai/slash/homosexuality, violence, swearing, and characters changing through the fic, thus becoming 'OoC', while still trying to keep them as canon as possible._

_The Harry Potter Universe in this fic won't follow the events read in the Sixth Book. The Sequel planned__ for this fic, of course, WON'T follow the Seventh and last book of the Harry Potter Saga. The Yu Yu Hakusho series, in this fic, are also subject to adjustment._

* * *

**Harry Potter and the Arc of Death**

**Chapter 1.-** _Down the Rabbit Hole_

The weather that fell upon Europe, overwhelming and moody, proved to be a lot more difficult to handle than Japan's. Spring lingered only with the faintest scent of blooming flowers, and yet there were strong winds and looming dark clouds on the sky. The air felt moist even though no droplets of water had fallen yet, which told the two foreigners that this climate was quite common. They had gone to purchase warmer clothes at a local store when they arrived, as they had not been warned it would be so fresh. The jackets they had bought after changing their yen for England's currency served well enough to keep their bodies protected, but it didn't stop the red hair of one of the Japanese men from lashing about him, slapping his face whenever a wild breeze came by.

"I do hope this is as simple as Koenma promised it would be," the redhead said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear as tightly as he could, concealing his annoyed state well enough that his partner felt free to complain.

"I want to go home now!" the other redhead (who had pompadour-styled hair) said loudly, earning a few more glances from the Londoners around. But they already looked their way when they spoke loud enough for them to hear, so it didn't really matter. Luckily, none of them seemed to understand Japanese, so Kuwabara could be as loud as he wanted about any matter. "Why couldn't the Detective or the Shrimp come to this one?"

Kurama smiled at the intentional lack of 'with you', or any phrase resembling it, in his friend's complaints. Kuwabara was not trying to insult Kurama's company; he was merely whining about wanting to go back home, where it was warmer and the sky clearer.

"Hiei's Jagan is as good as Koenma's database when we try finding people, but both tend to fail when we need to find objects or dimensional discontinuities. Your high sensibility should make it easier to find the false portal, and the rest we can leave to Koenma." There was a grunt as response, and Kurama resisted the temptation to shake his head.

He wasn't exactly ecstatic about coming to the mission either, but he had been lured into it with an offer he now thought dumb. The mere idea of visiting the only place on Earth with as much supernatural energy as Japan had prodded his curiosity. It had seemed like a good idea to come, back then.

_Not right now, though._

The former thief had been called to Koenma's office in the Reikai merely a day ago, via Botan as this was an 'extremely important matter'. Or so said the leader sucking on a pacifier.

"Just a few moments ago," Koenma had stated grimly to the redheads, "a human disturbed an entrance to Reikai. We need to find and stabilize it before the raft widens the gate and creates a clear portal for humans to come through. As you both surely understand, we do not want the whole human population knowing what waits for them after they die." Plus, if the portal grew wide enough, the already-distorted dimension around it might create a second gateway to Makai, and then to the Meikai. Powerful demons would enter the human world, oblivious to the boundaries of Reikai's barrier, as this new portal would be raw and unrestrained.

They didn't need another Team Toguro in their hands. At least Kurama didn't, with his mother's wedding coming in a few months; he wanted to attend to it. What kind of perfect son would he be, otherwise?

Kurama didn't notice they had stopped walking until he realized his partner was behind glass and red metal. How careless of himself.

The redhead blinked inquiringly at his partner, who was fumbling and pressing buttons randomly at a phone. Giving a single look around (how funny; no one seemed to even glance their way now), Kurama pushed the door of the cabin open and stepped inside, leaving the entrance ajar behind him. The place was wide enough to hold three people, maybe four, comfortably enough.

"Kuwabara?" he called softly not to disturb the male, looking over his shoulder. He had to tip-toe slightly to achieve that: Kuwabara was quite tall, and the redhead just thanked being taller than a certain fire demon he knew.

"This is the entrance," Kuwabara said simply, as if that was a good enough answer for the knowledge-hungry fox demon behind him.

"Entrance to where?" Kurama pressed, more fascinated now than before. This seemed like an average cabin to him...

However, he never got his answer, as a monotone, female voice started chanting at them.

"_Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. This entrance is currently unavailable— if you are a visitant, proceed through the route located eleven streets south. All employees must access the Ministry through their designed_ _entry. Every visitant will be asked to go through wand verification. Thank you, have a nice day._"

"Ministry?" Kurama repeated, sensing the energy vibrations from the telephone now that he knew what to look for. Everything was knit so close together here… he'd have to ask Kuwabara or Genkai for help with toning his senses. If he were Youko right now, he would have caught it along with Kuwabara. But since he was human, and it took so much training to become aware of beings other than himself, he had only focused on training his senses to human-like life (demons and humans) and plants, mostly. Sensing objects affected by reiki should be useful, though. Very useful, specially in wizard populations that depended so much on such objects.

"The Ministry of Magic," Kuwabara offered, once more pressing buttons. "My mother works here."

"Your mother?" Kurama repeated. He felt a bit dumb all of a sudden: normally, it was him answering everything. It was a bit refreshing to have new knowledge to absorb, though. "Isn't she at Japan?"

"Well, yes, my stepmother. My mother, though... Well, it's complicated," the male said awkwardly. "I'll tell you later, okay?"

"You don't need to," Kurama assured, stepping forward when he noticed Kazuma looked like he would hit the phone if it didn't do whatever he was trying to coax it to do. "Can we enter through here?"

"I think so. I was never really interested in this kind of thing... But if this is out of service, then we don't get verified, right?"

"If they're not expecting people to enter through here, then I don't think they are paying much attention to this entrance," Kurama said with a nod. He was rather pleased with Kuwabara's sharpness. He'd never thought it would be bad to have him as partner, but everyone knew he wasn't the smartest of the group, and he was too noble towards everyone. Too explosive. Now, though, he knew that he wouldn't go mad if he did get stuck with him in a mission longer than this one. "I think I can unlock this..."

"I don't think it's going to be a normal lock..." Kuwabara pointed out.

A sly smile took over Kurama's lips and his eyes narrowed slightly, a hand going to his hair to extract a single little seed of a kind of thin vine. "A lock is a lock. And a bandit can pick any lock." He bent slightly, letting the plant grow smoothly and hastily on his outstretched hand. He'd just have to use youki more than physical pushing to break it.

"I'll just keep watch, then," Kuwabara decided with a small nod, hands in pockets as he looked around.

_Like I need it,_ Kurama thought, not cruelly but amusedly. And it seemed that, still, no one looked their way. How ironic. How could anyone walking past them _not _turn to stare at a pair of Asian teenagers, who seemed to think a phone worked by sticking a plant into it? It was safe to assume that the cabin itself was enhanced with reiki.

He shook his head slightly, focusing on the task at hand. The thin vine slipped into the opening where coins came out from. Or, at least, where he assumed they came from: this was a very odd-styled phone cabin. When he found a hollow space inside, he decided he was either completely right, or very wrong. He focused on the feeling of barriers… they weren't quite solid, but they still made his vines advance more slowly. Just pushing at the right ones should work...

"Whoa!" Kuwabara cried as the floor of the cabin started moving. Kurama pulled his vine away, making it shrink into a seed once more and sticking it into his hair, just before the street disappeared and they went under the ground. After a few moments, what was in front of them was a narrow hallway. An empty hallway, thankfully.

So the Ministry was underground.

"I was expecting something more magical," Kurama admitted as he stepped off the red metal floor, onto the brown welcome carpet, and advanced efficiently down the marble floor. He soon heard Kuwabara's stumbling steps following him, and focused on locating people nearby. There were a few, from the soft steps he heard outside... but it was early in the morning, so perhaps not as much as there could be. That was the best they could ask for.

"The portal is down here?" Kuwabara nodded his head, getting past his amazement in order to do so. Obviously, he hadn't been here before. There was _knowing it existed_, and _being in it_. "Do you know the exact location?"

"I know the direction," Kuwabara said, moving his head towards it. Which was downwards, and somewhere to the right.

Kurama couldn't quite see any stairs, so he guessed they would have to come out of their pretty, safe, empty hallway. _I had a feeling Koenma was lying,_ the redhead though dryly.

Finding a dimensional discontinuity in the Ningenkai was easy. Humans tended to ignore anything paranormal. They blinded their eyes, deafened their ears, and muted the voice of their own souls. It was not a completely irreversible state (look at Kuwabara!), but it was one that worked for them rather than against them in these kind of missions. It lessened the imminent damage that would be done, if humans did not wander and stumble into the portal. "Wizard" humans, though, were not as much monkeys as their neglecting siblings. While they wouldn't be able to sense reiki or youki unless trained (which they had in common with ordinary humans), they had power.

This was a "get through a government base full of paranoid and armed monkeys without being discovered" mission. They couldn't let the wizards know why they were here, so going through 'verification' was not an option: the guards would ask too many questions. Like, what were two young Japanese men doing at the Ministry of Magic of Europe, when they obviously didn't speak English fluently.

"We'll need to get there discretely, then," Kurama finally said, advancing to the only door of the corridor, right at the end of the hallway. "Follow me, try not to fall behind."

He opened the door carefully, and he surveyed the situation: they were in a better position than he could have hoped for. Not many guards. Of course, this was an average government building, so there shouldn't be a lot to begin with: they would all be at the entrances and important areas. But there were neither a lot of guards, nor a lot of wizards. There were big gaps of time between the persons that walked down this huge entrance with black marble, and to the far side, Kurama could see a golden statue. They could hide behind that if they had any trouble.

"Come on," he said, looking back at Kuwabara once to check he was prepared, before going out of the room. Swiftly, Kurama went through most of the entrance, going at a just-slightly-faster-than-human speed (he had Kuwabara as partner, not Hiei) and reaching the statue just in time to hide from a wizard that passed by.

The redhead mostly ignored the statue he and Kuwabara were hiding behind (arrogant wizards; AS IF every demon and derived creature looked up to them...). Their main mission right now was to find a way to go further down – he hoped there were floors lower than this one, because it would be really hard to close a torn portal that was a mere hole in some cavern several feet bellow them.

"Are those elevators?" Kuwabara asked in a murmur, making the fox turn his head to look at the way he was pointing his finger. Indeed, at the end of the hallway was a pair of metal doors leading into small compartments... like the ones you found in hotels and really tall buildings.

"Seems that way."

_I'm still waiting for something more magical,_ he reproached mentally as they went over to the elevators. A quick roll-and-duck-behind-a-pillar when someone came out of an elevator, and both redheads went into the small compartment, the door closing behind them softly. A small, annoying tone started to play out of nowhere -- _Spontaneous music. It's better, but not quite my idea of magic_ – and Kuwabara pressed a random number from the panel right next to the metal doors.

"Do you know where we're going?" Kurama asked, leaning against a wall as the elevator started to move.

"I hope so," Kuwabara said, frowning a bit. Kuwabara pressed the button with the number 'two' in it, but when they started to move upwards, he quickly pressed 'three'. They were still going up. Kurama counted four floors upwards just as Kuwabara went to press the fifth, and pressed the button 'eight' to get back to where they were. Only two floors were under them. He tried with nine, and Kuwabara nodded his approval once the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

Kurama went out with him, looking around. Empty. They were either having a lot of luck, or this was a trap. And, somehow, he doubted the last. Not even Botan knew about the mission: just Kurama, Kuwabara, and Koenma. So perhaps they were being lucky. And by now, he could too sense the horrid chaos that only an accidental portal could cause.

"So we check where exactly it is and then leave?" Kuwabara asked silently, as they headed for the door at the end of the hallway. It had an alluring air to it that made Kurama both uneasy and eager to reach it.

"Yes, but I'd like to take a look at it first," Kurama said. A small report of the damage so far wouldn't hurt, and he did want to know just how 'urgent' this actually was.

He pushed the dark door open, and both human and demon hybrid stepped in. Imagine their surprise when the room around them started to spin. Kuwabara had his spirit sword in hand and Kurama a rose whip ready by the time it stopped. They remained in a defensive stance until they decided nothing was going to attack them, and that they couldn't hear anyone nearby. They kept their weapons out, though, just in case.

Kuwabara pushed open the door to the portal (try as they might to daze them, wizards couldn't hide energy), and they cautiously proceed into the room.

_Well... now,_ this _is magical._

In the middle of the room, several rows of stairs downwards, was a single stone arc, within which there was a clear veil made of the sacred energy of Reikai. Or at least that was how it seemed to Kurama. It swayed back and forth with nonexistent air, and from it, faint whispering could be heard... many of the voices were alien to the fox, though some he recognized.

"_Youko... Run, escape..."_ and that one made him shiver. But now he knew what this was.

And he frowned at the knowledge.

"Why is this down here?" he murmured, as they went down the steps. The air seemed to thicken as they advanced, and it was slightly harder to breathe. Nothing deadly, though: the veil was only struggling, trying to tear itself open at the same time it tried to tug itself closed. Apparently, tearing was winning, for the way the cloth lashed about.

The whispering became stronger, and Kurama turned quickly to Kuwabara.

"Don't listen," he said. It was easy to notice, for the bewildered look in his face, that he too could hear the whispers. He didn't know if Kuwabara had anyone he would want to follow, but he wasn't going to take the risk of letting him even think about going past the veil. The human hastily nodded when he heard the kitsune's stern tone, and Kurama returned his gaze to the veil.

This was wrong… why was _this_ here? And how come Koenma hadn't found it yet?

"Ehh… Kurama?" His eyes turned to Kuwabara, to find him pointing at something just past the veil.

"Kuwabara, anything you see or hear coming from the portal is not real," he said, looking back to the veil. His last statement faltered as he spotted something not _in_ the veil, but clearly behind it. He would have mistaken it for a silver fox (such as himself in his past life), if it weren't so wide and much rougher-looking... No. This was not a fox. It was a dog.

A big, silver-colored dog, that was sitting right behind the veil. Watching them with uncanny black eyes, which seemed as deep as the black fire that consumed body and soul. But this black was much more compassionate.

"I'm pretty sure that dog is real," Kuwabara said.

Not two seconds after the male said that, the huge dog ran forward, going right through the veil without being sucked in by it, and past the pair of detectives. Its sides brushed lightly against the guys, and Kurama froze, Kuwabara yelping. They turned around and, without need of words, ran after the dog, the air clotting further behind them.

"How can that thing be the rupture?" Kuwabara asked. "Is it a demon?"

"No, but it's not much better; it's causing the raft to widen! We need to take it to Koenma," Kurama said, as they ran back upstairs. The dog went right through the door, and they entered the spinning room a moment later. Kurama frowned impatiently as the doors started moving, and pushed the door to his right open to keep chasing the animal.

The creature jumped, and they had to loose precious time by going up through the elevator. Kurama tapped the heel of his shoe against the carpeted floor as the now-annoying music filled the room, and he sprinted behind Kuwabara when the doors opened. It didn't take long to spot the glowing body of the canine, running boldly through the wide hallway, the one with the golden statue in it.

There were people walking around right then... but they had to catch that thing. Screw the cover.

They turned and went into a hallway, turning again at some point and continuing for a while. The damn thing was fast! And with people walking in the Ministry, turning and following them with their gazes until they got out of sight, they couldn't go much faster. A small stumble, and then Kuwabara lunged. His arms wrapped around the white dog's neck, despite Kurama's yell encouraging otherwise. Surprisingly (for Kurama), the dog's body seemed to be quite solid, and Kuwabara managed to halt it's advance.

Kurama stopped next to the pair, panting softly – playing human teenager as perfectly as always – and watching the dog struggle lightly, but finally sit down and settle, knowing it wouldn't escape from the human's strong arms.

Well, that had not been as easy as they expected it to be, but at least it was ov—

"_Hey, you two_." Three basic words of English, that Kurama could definitely understand.

Kuwabara groaned softly, as both teenagers turned to face a stern-looking man that was waving a stick around in a 'come here' motion. Kurama turned to Kuwabara, frowning a bit.

"I only know a passable amount of English… I'm not fluent, though." He had never really expected to leave Japan during his lifetime. He was knowledgeable in various Demon Languages and Japanese, commonly used at the upper Makai for better cover in the Land of the Rising Sun. The barrier was weaker in those specific islands. A demon wouldn't bother learning French or Italian if the humans in the place they came out at talked Japanese.

"I'll take care of it," Kuwabara said with a small nod.

Kurama didn't question his decision, and took the other's place at holding the dog down. He just knelt down by it, though, a hand firmly on the back of his neck. He watched as Kuwabara went over to the man, and started talking in heavily accented, rough English. It was better than Kurama's, though. He'd remember to practice more when he got back home. It wouldn't hurt to learn more human languages.

It seemed he had a lot to do once he went back to Japan.

He sighed softly, turning his attention to the dog, who was panting and looking completely normal right then. For a moment, it's eyes turned to stare at the green orbs fixed on him. It was everything it needed to do, though, for Kurama to learn that 'it' was intelligent. Not that he hadn't suspected so already.

"What are you, anyway…" he murmured, shifting his grip.

In the small fraction of second that his hand left the dog's skin, the animal ran off, neatly cutting off the small root of trust Kurama had placed on him. There went the stereotyped loyalty towards the "man's best friend", right out of the window.

He stood up and went after the dog, calling a "Be right back!" as he went past Kuwabara and the man questioning him. He briefly heard yelling, probably directed at him, and as he turned the corner, he could hear steps coming behind him. They wouldn't think he was escaping or anything, would they...?

"...transferring prisoners to their jail!" he heard from Kuwabara, whose voice was less concerned than the guard's.

Oh. So there were few people here because of that? Well, it wasn't like they could harm Kurama: his reflexes were as sharp as ever, as the tournament had just been held a few weeks ago.

Still, he hadn't expected that, in the next turn, the dog would come right back at him, tackling him to the ground. It promptly hid behind Kurama, baring his fangs at something in front of them. The mildly thrown-off redhead turned to the front, just in time to spot a demon running through the hallway in front of him, jets of light flying past him, but never hitting the target.

The demon rose a wooden stick swiftly, and cried _"Protego!"_ in a deep, powerful voice. A barrier with an unnatural green glow to it appeared, swallowing and spitting back most of the jets of light going his way. And as he turned to continue his escape, a certain small movement of his neck gave Kurama his name.

They had met before, when Kurama was still Youko. And this was the last place where he would have expected to find him again. His name slipped from the redhead's lips before he could think twice of it. He was that sure of his unconscious call.

"Athanatos."

Gray eyes turned to him for less than two seconds, and they narrowed briefly. The stick was pointed Kurama's way.

"_Avada—"_ A loud crash, and the male forgot his spell-casting in order to escape from the shower of lights that came through the broken barrier.

The fox just sat there, perplexed, as Kuwabara reached him, the guard leaving them to join the persecution. Kuwabara helped him up hastily, tugging him back towards the lifts they had come from. The dog seemed to be quite willingly following, now. Just in case, Kurama grew a thorn-less vine to use as leash on his neck. He was not about to let the "animal" run off again.

"Come on. My mother works at the Second Floor, I think," he muttered. Getting help from one of the workers might get them out of trouble. Kuwabara turned to Kurama, who just nodded. The human still seemed at a loss, though, if not worried. "What was that back there?"

Kurama shook his head, frowning at the recent memory.

"It was just an omen, Kuwabara. And I don't think it was a good one."

* * *

A/N

"_It was not a completely irreversible state (look at Kuwabara!)" _: Why didn't I mention Yuusuke as well? He died, and his powers unlocked that way. He was 'deaf, mute, and blind' before the accident. Kuwabara was naturally sensitive, and had to work hard to get his reiki to be strong enough to be used as weapon. I'm not saying Yuusuke didn't work hard (he's struggled as hard as the other characters through the series, if not harder), but he got a bit of help.

"_...pressed the button with the number 'two' in it, but when they started to move upwards..._" : They started at the Atrium. Which is the Eight floor. The Department of Mysteries is at the Ninth.

"_A big, silver-colored dog..." _:So, you might have your suspicions about this. If you're wondering why it's silver and not other color, it will be explained later on.

"_...Land of the Rising Sun..."_ : Japan is sometimes referred to with this name. Don't start saying that "it's not japan, it's phoenix" or anything. I'm not trying to annoy anyone, it's just a fact: Japan is _sometimes_ referred to as the Land of the Rising Sun, because Japan means "_sun-origin"_.


	2. Dealing with Business

Harry Potter and the Arc of Death

**Chapter 2.- **_Dealing with Business_

"They are WHERE!?"

"On their way back from London," the ruler repeated clear and loud, rubbing one of his ears grumpily. "Really, Yuusuke, why are you yelling at me?" his eyes turned to the shadow that was casually leaning against a far wall. Under the blank, almost hateful mask of his, the small man was amused. "Why did you bring him here, Hiei?"

"Hn," was Hiei's monosyllabic response.

Truth was, he much preferred to let Koenma deal with an angry Yuusuke, than be yelled at by the annoyingly loud human teenager. Besides, it was fun to watch.

Yuusuke had come over to the park Hiei was sleeping at (how he found Hiei, the fire apparition would never know), asking about Kuwabara's location, because he wasn't at Genkai's and the oaf's sister didn't know where he was. Hiei, of course, had absolutely no idea, and told Yuusuke that in a few curt words. Then, the detective had proceeded to demand sparring with Hiei... who denied with a glare. He was not in the mood to fight with an obviously angered detective, and told him to go bother Kurama instead.

But Kurama's mother had told Yuusuke that the redhead was in a small trip to visit a sick friend, but that he would be back that night, if not tomorrow morning. And since no member of the team was sick, there was only one answer for the two's disappearance. Hiei and Yuusuke had promptly decided to go to Koenma's and ask for an explanation.

"Why didn't you call all of us if the mission was so important?" Yuusuke demanded. He was acting unusually odd today... Like the rest of the team, he didn't appreciate being called in for some "stupid mission anyone with half a brain could take care of".

"Something wrong with the matron, detective?" Hiei asked, smirking pleasantly when Yuusuke turned a dry glare on him. To allow a woman to get to him like this, what an idiot.

"_IF_ you must know, Yuusuke," Koenma said, probably stopping a heated fight from starting right in the middle of his office, as two pairs of eyes turned to him. He was not looking at either of them anymore, instead pulling and putting away papers at a high speed, while a red-colored stamp was pressed to each, once. "It was not the kind of mission that required fighting, so I don't think you would have enjoyed it. It was reconnaissanceof sorts, and it required people able to keep a low profile—"

Yuusuke snorted.

Hiei sneered.

Koenma glared.

"Kurama and Kuwabara were the best options out of you four, given the circumstances. They completed the mission, and they are on their way back to Japan. If you want a full explanation of how it went, go pick them up at the park near—"

"A park?" the head of their team asked, frowning slightly.

"There were a few complications with the mission," Koenma admitted, and he stopped the stamping cycle to look at them. "They managed to make it with as little suspicion as they could, but they were still found by the wizards."

Oh, hoho. Hiei would never let Kurama live this one down! Spotted by wizards, how low had the master fox thief fallen?

"They offered to bring them back to Japan through one of their artifacts, but it was scheduled to arrive an hour from now. It's slower than asking Botan to fetch them, but it's the safest way to keep them covert with the Government they broke into. Now, if you'd be so kind to pick them up for me, and get back here with the guest they'll bring along..."

Hiei nodded once the ruler gave them the right directions, and was standing up to leave, when Yuusuke asked what had to be the most stupid question the fire demon had heard him utter in the day.

"You mean _magic_ exists?"

That ruined Hiei's mildly-content mood.

* * *

"You should have told me you wanted to visit me, Kazuma," the woman guiding them through the Ministry said. They had to walk to an area of the building without anti-apparition wards, so they would be able to leave London and head directly to Japan. It had taken a while to explain things fully; by the time they were done, night had fallen. Both teenagers, and the silver-colored dog by their side – who had a brand new leash, provided by a kind red-haired wizard that had been carrying one around but didn't know how to use it – were wide awake, not bothered by the tardiness of events. Or, at least, they did not look it.

"I'm sorry," Kuwabara said in that stiff English of his, since the woman in front of them didn't remember many words in Japanese, other than the most basic ones. Those she'd learned from Kuwabara's father, in the years they had lived together. "It was very sudden."

Kuwabara glanced at Kurama, who gave a discrete, innocent smile his way. He didn't have a clue of what the two were saying, but he'd already talked to his less-sharp teammate about what he should say, during the short time that it took the guards to fetch Kuwabara's mother from her department.

"Shuichi came to visit London with his uncle, and I was invited along because he wanted to return tonight. But it was not safe to go by himself and his uncle had to stay here... We were going to take a plane back to Japan, but we've already lost it. It's my fault, I asked him if we could come visit you before leaving... I didn't know you would be transporting prisoners to the wizard jail."

"It's fine, Kazuma," the woman said, running her hair through her long, light-colored hair. Surely Kuwabara and Shizuru had gotten their hair from her. Her eyes were just as light, a honey color, so the eyes had been heritage of the father. She was also kind of short… other than the hair color and the soft features she shared with her daughter, she didn't look at all like Kuwabara.

"I still don't understand, though… how did you come in through that red-phone entrance? I thought it was closed off to visitors..."

"Dunno," Kuwabara said, glad that the nervousness in his voice could pass as the awkward accent he couldn't shake off his tongue.

"Doesn't matter..." The woman, who's name was Mildred Acacia, turned to face Kurama. He gave her the same charming smile he'd been giving to every person that tried to talk to him. "Are you okay?"

"I do not undersutand Ingrish," Kurama repeated for the twentieth time that day, keeping up the cheerful facade that made him look completely harmless and oblivious. Despite everything, he was getting better in the pronunciation.

"O-oh... Sorry," Mildred muttered, getting a wider smile from the kid, who gently waved a hand in front of his face in a 'no' motion. The woman turned to her son, repeating the question: "Is he okay? I heard one of the prisoners tried to kill him."

"That is what he was trying to do?" Kuwabara asked, mildly surprised, but not distressed. When were they not in danger of dieing during a mission? "I just saw him move a stick at Shuichi and say something..."

"He was lucky the rest of the Aurors caught up before the spell was finished," Mildred said with a troubled look, but looking less concerned for Kurama's mental health. If he didn't know he'd been about to die... "No one survives the killing curse... well, no one but the Boy Who Lived..." And before anything else could be said, they had reached a door. Mildred pushed it open and allowed the boys to step in before her, as awkward as that was for both gentlemen.

There was nothing particularly exciting about the room. Plain, cube-shaped, with stone floors and walls. It's length and width both ranged around fifteen feet long, and it was quite full of several useless objects piled in one side of the small space. A boot, an empty chocolate box, a torn jacket, and, in the middle of the room, a small bird bath. All the objects but the last were bare of any paranormal sensation.

"We'll be using the portkey in the middle," the woman told them, closing the door behind herself. Kuwabara could almost see the air do a sharp twist behind them and lock away the overwhelming sensation of energy in the air. Kurama did not seem too bothered, but Kuwabara noticed his eyes narrow in the tiniest sign of acknowledgement.

"Portkey?" Kuwabara repeated.

"It's an enchanted object. It transports whoever touches it to a preprogrammed location... Japan, in this case. We took a while to get one set up because all the Department of Magical Transportation seemed to be having troubles with the transport in Scotland, and the others were moving the imprisoned Death Eaters. A real mess, I tell you. We were lucky that Edgewood from the Floo Regulation Panel was promoted from that one Department, or you two would have had to wait until tomorrow. We cannot transport muggles through brooms, that would require lots of paperwork for the memory charms afterwards, if anyone saw us..."

Kuwabara didn't have a clue of what a muggle was. Alas, he didn't understand half the things his mother babbled; she seemed to be talking to herself for the most part. They simply followed her to the bird bath, as she ranted on about Edgewood's work and efforts to get the portkey done.

"Touch it," she instructed, placing her own hand on the smooth stone surface. "Just a finger will do. The dog must touch it too..."

Kuwabara muttered something in Japanese to Kurama, and they tugged the silver dog's front legs up, placing the paws atop the bird bath. To make sure he wouldn't pull away, each teenager placed a hand atop one of the paws, and the other more firmly on the charmed object.

"We couldn't contact the Ministry in Asia." Probably because there was none.

Certain humans in high posts of government were quite aware of reiki and a few less were aware of demons, and they didn't see the need to separate normal humans from those with higher human energy. Because _that_ didn't bode too well with the sense of team-work that the Japanese culture so strongly encouraged in their kids. How would they work together like a perfect machine if some of them thought they were more important than others, just because they could channel energy through a stick to make pretty sparkles? The closest thing Japan had to a Ministry of Magic was Enma's castle at Reikai.

"So, we'll transport to an area near your house, Kazuma," she said, nodding to him. She did know where her ex lived, after all, and had double-checked with Kazuma as soon as she was told they would need to return to Japan as soon as possible. "I'm really sorry about all of this... I hope we don't insult the government. It is required, though..."

There was something in her tone that made Kuwabara uneasy, though he couldn't tell if Kurama felt likewise, because he was still smiling as if all was good in the world.

"Thanks for visiting, Kazuma," Mildred added, leaning over and tip-toeing to kiss his cheek before grasping the item that would take them to Japan, glancing at a clock in the wall.

No more than two seconds after that, Kuwabara yelped, feeling as though a hook was pulling him by the navel, and everything started to spin in a vortex of dull colors. He also couldn't pull away from the stone decoration, but he didn't mind that one much, as he couldn't feel any flooring beneath his feet.

* * *

"When are they going to arrive?"

There was no answer to the question, as Hiei had already granted one, to that same question, ten minutes ago; he would not repeat it. They were standing at a good hiding spot, as they weren't supposed to know where the transport was going to arrive. And they didn't: they had just been told it would be in this area, but nothing of the exact point at which the rest of the team would arrive.

Hiei's eyes wandered to the right side of the park, towards a familiar clearing among the tall trees. The days in which the team had only consisted of himself, Kurama and the soul-eater demon... How had he ended up here?

"Oi, look!" the reason for his current life called from under him, and Hiei shifted slightly on the branch he sat on. His eyes quickly focused on a spot five feet bellow the air he had been staring at as a vortex of odd colors, soaked with human energy, allowed five shapes to materialize. Three were human, one was feral, and the last was a stationary object. After a moment of wobbling from the breathing figures, one fell back as though hit by a strong wind.

"That's the idiot," Hiei muttered, watching him stand back up.

"Why did they bring a dog?" Yuusuke asked, as the animal pulled away from the object with an almost pained bark and laid down on the ground, not able to run off because of the leash the still-standing figure held tightly in his hand.

"Hn." Like he knew. They would need to ask when—

"What's the woman doing?" His eyes narrowed even as he asked, but he didn't move forward yet.

The woman had taken out a short stick – Hiei believed it was a "wand" – and pointed it at the two teenagers in front of her. The human's mouth moved, and she hit both young men straight in the forehead with a bright ray of energy from her wand. It didn't have the feeling of an attack, but both redheads seemed to loose their balance slightly. Maybe a disorienting seal?

The moment the two males took their hands away from the object (apparently a bird bath), the woman grasped it once more and disappeared in another vortex, created by the stone gadget she grasped.

Yuusuke didn't loose a second, and went over the pair. Hiei followed suit, arriving just when Yuusuke took the leash away from a puzzled Kurama.

"What was it she shoot at you?" Yuusuke asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Who?" Kuwabara asked, a hand to his head as though his head hurt. Kurama mimicked the gesture with two fingers to his temple, rubbing gently before frowning.

"Could you tell me why I have this feeling I went to London with an uncle I don't have? Shouldn't we be at the airport?" It was unusual to see the redhead talking nonsense. And it was a bold signal that something was wrong.

Hiei took his headband off in a swift movement, a bright purple eye opening. With a small grunt from Kurama and a glare of green eyes, he promptly pushed his way into the complex being that was a fox demon reborn in a human body.

It was never pleasurable to enter this territory... Kurama's mind was one of the most messed up entities Hiei ever had looked into. There was not one, nor two, but three main branches that led to different thoughts. The first, the deepest one, had to be his life as a Youko. The other two grew in an odd way... intertwined for what could very well be five inches or five miles, before one of the branches moved away to join Youko's. Those had to be his thoughts as Shuichi and "Kurama". Of course, Hiei was placing it in simple terms, and he only used the term "branch" because he was reminded of that when he thought of the plant-master.

The disheveled mind was hard to go through, but it was much better than it had been the first time Hiei tried to travel in it, back when Kurama had betrayed them, _him,_ for his human mother. It had left him with a headache, only aggravating his hate for the redhead.

And there was something else now, something new, other than the slight organization it now held: an alien block in the tree of his reminiscences. Like a stone forced into wood.

Hiei pulled out, and after a quick check to Kuwabara's much-simpler mind, he found a similar obstruction.

"She modified their memories," he said, placing the headband on once more.

"Can't you do something about that?" Yuusuke asked, joining the collective frown.

"Yes," he looked up, towards the pink-and-blue figure hovering down towards them. "Just, not now." He needed a few minutes, at least, to be able to destroy the lump without permanently harming their minds. It wouldn't be such a loss on Kuwabara, but he didn't want Kurama to turn into another Yuusuke.

It took nearly two hours of the afternoon at Koenma's office to fragment the seal blocking the memories, but eventually, Hiei managed to finish the job. He pulled away from Kurama, taking his eyes off the other's with a silent "Hn."

"Thank you, Hiei," Kurama said, reaching into his hair and pulling out a single seed, offering it to he fire demon. Not bothering to ask what it was, Hiei took it, popped it into his mouth, and swallowed. The headache lessened enough that he wouldn't want to kill anyone merely for a dumb comment. Which would have been likely to happen anytime with Kuwabara and Yuusuke together, while they talked about magic... Well, at least the big oaf knew about it.

"So," Koenma said, looking from redhead to redhead. "Care to explain what happened?"

Kurama proceeded to explain the events through their little visit to London, with little adds here and there from Kuwabara. At the mention of the dog, Koenma had to stop them. This was odd, since he'd seemed surprised before (When the kitsune explained what they had found in the Ministry, for example) but hadn't gone as far as interrupting them in the middle of a sentence.

"Hold on—you mean this dog came out of the portal?"

"It seems it came out of the veil, yes," Kurama said, suddenly frowning. "I mean, there was no other way it could have gotten into the room – I'm fairly sure there was only one entrance to it." They would have noticed if a fog slipped in, if they had left it ajar. "Koenma..." the fox started, eyes narrowing. "That veil in the room... it's The Arc, isn't it?"

Koenma appeared to be a bit uneasy as he nodded.

"I see now why we couldn't find it... underground, under so many layers of reiki, our ferry girls would never be able to locate it." He placed his chubby little fingers together, eyebrows lowering in a half-concerned, half-upset expression. "I hate the United Kingdom," he declared as an afterthought.

"Eh... What's the arc?" Kuwabara asked, looking as puzzled as Yuusuke surely felt.

"A portal created decades ago, for the purpose of bringing the spirit of the death from Europe straight to Reikai," Kurama explained. "It was created around the time of the first World War. The problem is that spirits should only go in, not out. And of course, the portal serves only for humans, not dogs, less those that don't seem to be dead.

"In light of this," the fox continued, turning his eyes to their boss. "How come this," a small pat to the head of the white dog, who sat between Kurama and Yuusuke, apparently finding the detective's leg comfortable to lean against and cover with slobber. Yuusuke's fault for dropping some of his breakfast on his lap that morning. "managed to get through?"

"I'm not sure," Koenma said to the inquisitive eyes of his four best men. "But I'm positive that it's linked to the portal. Maybe it's the reason for the rift. Who knows how long it was there, the wizards might have been unable to see it..."

"But they did see him!" Kuwabara argued. "Mildred could see it, and the guard that found us, and—"

"We get the picture," Hiei stated.

"So maybe it just decided to pop up today," Yuusuke said with a shrug, not content with remaining quiet any longer. He pushed the dog's head away from his leg, grunting and moving away from it, towards Koenma's desk. "Who knows, maybe it sensed Kurama? You said that 'magic' is just reiki, right? Kurama's energy is not completely human."

"Can animals sense that?" Kuwabara asked, eyes slightly wide.

"They have great empathy. But they're more acute to weather and nature than other types of living energy," Kurama said with a shake of his head. "It's clear that this is not an average dog." And he continued with the short tale, finishing at their 'capture' and allowing Kuwabara to finish it with the conversation with his mother, which Kurama truly hadn't understood.

"And there's something else," the fox continued. "The breakout we told you about... one of the wizards that escaped was not human. And I'm fairly sure he was not the only one." Just the one Kurama got to see, and recognize.

"There's something going on in England," Koenma stated unnecessarily.

Hiei felt the urge to roll his eyes, knowing what was coming and not liking it at all. He could hear the soft breath of discomfort leaving Kurama's lips, and Yuusuke's groan. Kuwabara was the only one that seemed a bit lost.

"I want you four to go keep an eye on things while we find out what the dog really is. Take posts around the Ministry; things seem to be focusing there. Make sure that if something else escapes the broken portal, it doesn't go far – be cautious. I don't want you sent back to Japan bound and escorted by wizard polices," he warned, eyes distinctively focusing on the human half of the team, "Investigate as much as you can without actually contacting any wizards. The less suspicion placed on you, the better."

He paused for a moment, before turning to the wide screen of the room. "That's all for today. You leave tomorrow evening, take a good nap. Botan will give you more details before leaving." He spun his chair back towards them and moved his hand softly in a dismissing motion.

* * *

Kurama watched Yuusuke and Kuwabara leave the room with loud complains about having to spend several days in Europe, and then Yuusuke perking up slightly when he realized he would miss classes. Hiei remained in the room, standing at the corner. It was until Kurama met his eyes and nodded for him to go on that he disappeared.

And it was until the door closed behind the dark blur that Koenma seemed to notice he was still there.

"What is it, Kurama?" he asked politely, almost carefully upon seeing the look in Kurama's eyes.

"You're sending us into trouble again, Lord Koenma," Kurama stated, moving a bit closer to the desk. "And while the others might not know just how dangerous this can be, I do." There was a high personal risk, at the least. He'd paid most of his debt with Koenma by joining Team Urameshi and going through the Tournament, and this sort of mission would require an actual bribe to convince him.

And Koenma seemed to catch on, his face immediately turning weary. "What do you want?"

"Just a small promise," he assured, though a small smirk stretched his lips.

The redhead left the office a few minutes later, allowing Koenma to deal with the white dog that seemed to want to pee all over his desk.

* * *

Harry Potter, a sixteen-year old teenager who was a bit too short and thin for his age, laid on his bed inside his little room at his uncle's house at Privet Drive. The door of the room was locked, not by Vernon, but by Harry himself. He didn't want to be bothered, nor did he want to be yelled at over trivial things, like not cleaning the kitchen in a satisfactory way.

The window was open, the curtains waving softly in the breeze that early summer brought, allowing a few rays of supple light to hit the wooden floor. The air held a heavy atmosphere, but that might have been Harry's mood talking. Even if the sky had cleared a few hours before sunrise, even if it was an unusually nice day out, he felt as though there were only rainy skies.

This horrible temper of Harry's had lasted for a while now. His aunt and uncle didn't ask about it once as they fetched him from the train station, and they had happily allowed him to lock himself away. They had not seen a hair of the boy since the first day of vacations, as the teenager only came down for food when they were out or sleeping. And without any attempt at human contact, Harry remained depressed.

His Godfather, Sirius Black, had died a few weeks ago. And all because he had been reckless.

He was unable to look at the album with moving photos. He couldn't look the man in the face even in the picture. What he could look at, though, was the mirror the man had given his godson to contact him. The mirror he had forgotten completely last year, which he only recalled when he was getting ready to come back here.

A useless thing, really... it was almost safe to assume it wouldn't work with Sirius death. It wouldn't show anything, no matter how long Harry held it between his hands. Maybe the man had had it on him when he... when he...

Harry closed his eyes tightly and took in a deep breath, trying to drive away the memories that kept flashing in front of his eyes.

When he opened them, he stared at the mirror for a second, before hearing a loud noise and turning his head--

Surely Duddley stumbling at the stairs: the guy might be more muscle and less fat now, but he was still a big, clumsy giant. The following squeal of concern from Aunt Petunia confirmed his wild guess.

--and his gaze snapped right back to the mirror, as his body shot up to sit straight on the bed. His heart rate increased until it was a constant, almost painful drumming in his ears, and he stared at his own face in the mirror.

Just a second ago, though, it hadn't been his reflection in the broken surface. But maybe he was hallucinating...

After all, scenes such as toddlers sitting on big desks and lecturing ogres didn't exist.

Did they?

* * *

Author Notes:

"_That ruined Hiei's mildly-content mood._": Yes, I do consider Hiei was acting content in that first section.

"_Probably because there was none (Asian Ministry of Magic)"_: I'm not a hundred percent sure about this. But as far as research took me, there really is no such thing as a Ministry of Magic anywhere near Japan. Besides, it fits the crossover.

"_...she hit both young men straight in the forehead."_: Yes, they could have easily dodged the spell. That would have been a bit suspicious, though, considering they're not wizards, and shouldn't have instincts to duck just because a stick is pointed their way. And yes, a single spell to modify memories is enough for the two of them. It's magic.


	3. Number Four of Privet Drive

Prior Author Notes: Thanks for Reading.

Harry Potter and the Arc of Death

**Chapter 3.- **_-Number Four of Privet Drive-_

The dry air of early July carried a warm breeze of summer, that did little to no good to those trying to throw off laziness on a slow afternoon. Little Whinging, Surrey, seemed to be the victim of one of the warmest days in the past five years. The clouds above were just high enough to make wide shadows over the garden of house Number Four of Privet Drive, relieving a bit of the searing atmosphere.

The grass was as green as it could be, despite the warmth. It was moist with little drops of water; just recently it had been bathed by a hose that lay next to the vibrant red roses on a corner of the garden, always so beautiful despite the high temperatures of the day. The placid way in which the blades of green danced to the breeze was soothing to the eye, and nearly at the middle of the garden, the grass gently hit the rim of a teenager's trousers, as the boy rested on a wooden bench.

He was allowed to roam there only because the hedges surrounding the garden were tall enough that no neighbor would accidentally spot the underfed and quite-shabby guy. Not that Vernon and Petunia would yell at him to come inside, as frightened as they were of a wizard showing up to hex them if they did.

Harry James Potter was, for once, thankful of being with the Dursleys. It was nowhere near as welcoming as the Burrow, and it was definitely nothing like the home-like, even if dangerous, Hogwarts. But it was a place where he could think. Last year, he'd nearly gone mad for the lack of information about the magic world. Now, he was thankful for that same lack of knowledge. He could pretend nothing had happened, if just for a while. Pretend the door had never been thrown down by a half-giant; that he hadn't realized people cared for him, maybe more than he would like; pretend that letter didn't have his name on it...

It was a childish way of thinking. But it would only be for a short while: vacations would end, too soon for his taste, and he would be back at Hogwarts, never as ready as he should be for another of Voldemort's plans to kill him off and--

"Boy!" Harry forced his head off the wooden table and to the side slightly, to see his plump uncle standing on the back doorway leading to the garden. For the pale tone of his skin, and the small tremble in his forehead (his veins seemed unable to decide if they should give in to fear or anger, resulting in an uneven but hasty heart pace), Harry could tell it was something that had to do with magic.

Jumping to his feet, Harry headed over to his uncle, taking his time by just stepping on the rocks forming a path to the house. Vernon could not complain, as just before the teenager went out, he gave him a good lecture about not ruining the grass.

"One of the freaks is calling," Vernon grunted when Harry was close enough, vaguely motioning to the kitchen's phone. It had been set carelessly upside-down, surely dropped when Vernon realized that the only people that would want to talk to Harry were not welcome at his home.

Curiosity picked at Harry's mind, and he headed over to the counter, picking up the phone and placing it against his ear. "Hello?"

"Ah, Harry! So good to hear you!"

A small smile came to Harry's face when he recognized the voice of Arthur it sounded oddly distant...

"You're holding the phone the wrong way, Mr. Weasley," he said, pulling over a chair to sit down. Despite his desire to be alone, he did find it nice to be called by any member of the Weasley family. Thinking about that, "Why are you using a Muggle phone, Mr. Weasley?" he asked.

"Oh, that." He seemed to be holding the phone correctly, now. "Well, Dumbledore thought it would be safe for now."

"Ah."

"Yes, such interesting things, these telephones – we should invent something like this, don't you think, Harry? They're smaller than fireplaces, and it's more comfortable than sticking your head into the fire. I'm going to talk to a few friends in the office about it."

"How are things in the Burrow?" Harry asked, deciding to change the theme instead of listening to an endless tirade about devices he was very used to.

"Oh, good, good. We're ready for your arrival, Harry, Ron will be sharing with you again."

"I'm going to the Burrow?" At least it was better than number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"Ah, yes, but I can't give you much information. We'll go soon, though, so make sure you have everything ready."

"I will, Mr. Weasley," Harry assured, rather curious about when they would come… but more than that, how they would go to the Burrow. Maybe on brooms again?

A minute or so later, Harry left the kitchen, heading up to his room to start packing his belongings. "Soon" could mean that night, or two days from today.

* * *

Yet another stormy day rode over London, the streets foggy with few people walking on them. The ones that did had coats and umbrellas, but many preferred to stay home in that part of London. Such an atmosphere, the dim light, and the lack of public, made up just the perfect day for walking around unnoticed. Like anyone would be able to see the Asian traits of the figure rushing back into a nearby Inn.

The tall male shot a short glance to the distracted woman behind the counter, and the redhead rushed up, little puddles of water forming as he advanced up the narrow staircase. Up to the second floor, and three dingy doors to the right, he opened an unlocked door.

"Man, I hate London!" he declared shamelessly, pulling down the plastic hood of his coat.

Across the room, on one of the two wide beds covered by overly-bright bed cloths, another redhead was combing his hair with his fingers, eyes set on the newcomer. "Well, last week was actually pretty nice," Kurama pointed out. The clouds had just returned yesterday, but the rain hadn't stopped since that same morning.

A grunt, and the squeal of a door's hinges.

"I knew I heard someone whining," The dark-haired teen was only half naked with a pair of jeans on, his chest and feet bare and a towel on his damp hair. "Has Hiei come back yet?"

"He hasn't."

"I thought the shrimp would hate water," the tallest of the males declared, moving to sit on the open windowsill. The way it sunk into the wall and the shape of the ceiling prevented him from getting even more drenched.

"If Hiei can handle ice, I'm sure he can take a bit of water," Yuusuke said, waving it off. "What did you find, anyway? I didn't see anything strange. Except for a few old men with weird costumes..."

"Those would be wizard robes, Yuusuke," Kurama pointed out, promptly nodding at Kuwabara to encourage him to answer, despite Yuusuke's mutters about not knowing whether or not they wore anything beneath the costumes.

The teenager took off his coat, closing his eyes as he stretched. "Nothing but wizards. The dimensional thing feels the same as a week before."

"That should be good. It's not widening, and wizards most likely haven't noticed the change, or they would have tried something..." Kurama watched as Kuwabara moved an arm back to catch the open window, starting to tug it back slightly. "Don't close the window." That got the teenager to pause and take his hand back for a moment.

"Why?"

"I don't think Hiei'll be using the doorway," Yuusuke was the one to answer. It was just a moment later that a shadow came out of nowhere to stand on the edge of the window, more drenched than any of the others when they came back from surveillance. It was rather funny to see how his hair stubbornly denied to go down completely, like the detective's did after his shower.

"Found a Wizard Market," Hiei declared, startling the hell out of Kuwabara, who shrieked and jumped two feet up and away from the window.

"Figures," Kurama murmured. "Where?"

"Charing Cross Road," he said, jumping off the windowsill to sit on it instead. "The entrance is an ugly pub; there's no barrier on it other than an enchanted brick-wall."

"Wizards take their own kind too lightly," Yuusuke pointed out, giving a grin at the cursing Kuwabara, who had found a new seat on the bed opposite Kurama's. The room seemed to get a few degrees warmer all of a sudden, and by the time Kurama glanced back at Hiei, the short demon was comfortably dry. "Have you been practicing? I bet it's useful to control a fire dragon thing..."

Hiei grunted as response, reaching up to nudge his scarf in place over his mouth. Apparently, Kurama noticed, he had found nothing else worthy of report. Of course, Hiei's area had been the furthest from the center of the region they were watching, Kuwabara's being the closest. Kurama and Yuusuke had split up North and South in the meantime, moving along East and West before returning to the inn for a group break. It could seem rather clumsy to just abandon investigation like that, but this was the hour of the day when less wizards moved to and from the underground-hidden government, according to their activity so far. Normally, not even with that would Kurama suggest they stop, but well...

A beeping sound brought four pairs of eyes to a small table sitting at the end of the bed on the right.

"Geeze, Koenma sure knows how to be punctual," Yuusuke stated, moving towards the briefcase there and turning it to a better viewing position. Hiei was far behind it, but he probably was just interested in listening and not watching. The teenager opened the top of the suitcase, setting it back enough that the screen attached to it would be seen clearly. A static sound was loud in the room for half a second, and then the face of a baby with a pacifier appeared.

"Yo, toddler, what's with the frown?" Yuusuke greeted.

This didn't seem to lighten the Prince's expression, though he did spend a second of his time to glare at Yuusuke's general way. "I know we arranged this meeting for you to give me your reports—"

"Very uneventful ones, this place is boring!"

"—but there's a much more important matter to discuss. The Dog."

"Do you finally know what it is?" Hiei asked from the window, in a tone that showed more frustration than curiosity. The only reason they were still stuck here was because Koenma couldn't find a way to get rid of the dog and return the gate to normal.

"Almost. But there's a little problem..." A bead of sweat fell from the plump little face. "...it has escaped."

"What! You allowed him to get away that easily!"

"That thing can go right through walls!" A familiar ogre's voice cried, the blue face coming into the screen for a second before Koenma pushed him away.

"It's heading Southwest of your location. Meet Botan at the roof and go fetch it. We don't know what it might do if we let it roam freely!" There were no further words as the screen turned black with a small clasping sound. The suitcase closed by itself, leaving the room in relative silence.

"Let's get going," Kurama suggested, standing up and pulling his coat on. Hiei was already on the hallway, the door open as he stared back at them stoically. Kurama quickly followed out. Yuusuke groaned as he left the room after them, and Kuwabara hastily picked the suitcase before tagging along. A set of stairs rested at the end of the hallway, even narrower than the ones leading to the second floor.

"Man, and I just took a shower!" the leader's groan came, the teen pulling a white shirt over his head as one by one they climbed the staircase, the loud sound of their steps surely bothering the people within the building -- as if the scruffy inn wasn't bad enough without noise. Of course, surely they were used to it, with the team being in the same room for nearly a week, now.

The sky was unnaturally dark, being that sunset had come and gone and the heavy clouds of rain just wouldn't go away. Sitting on a floating oar, a pretty girl with clear blue hair and a pink kimono waited, covering her head from the cool droplets with a single hand, squinting her eyes at the figures advancing through the slippery floor.

"Do we know where the dog is heading?" Kurama asked, relieved when a bubble-like barrier closed above and around them, though a few of the drops pooled at their feet in the time it took for it to close.

"Just the general direction. We thought it wanted to stretch the dimensional discontinuity, but there's nothing spiritually important in that direction," Botan said with a frown, nudging the oar upwards. It was rather hard to keep standing when the ground wasn't flat anywhere, but they managed ('they' meaning everyone but Kuwabara, who fell back to the barrier and slid down, also throwing Yuusuke off-balance), and they were off the ground.

The ferry girl aimed for the skies just above the heavy clouds, and for a few minutes they were able to appreciate the dark clouds lighting and roaring beneath them, the shapes of thunders barely visible through the dense clouds. As they advanced, the thick blanket of dark haze beneath them thinned, the lighting stopped it's ominous screaming, and the ground could finally be seen... along with a spot of silver that stood out nicely among two rows of identical and very dark houses. It was not that late, but apparently the families of the neighborhood had all gone to sleep early.

A collective cry of complain arose as the ferry girl made a sharp turn, making a neat vertical line to the ground. The ground grew closer each moment, and Botan only pulled up a few meters before reaching the ground.

Unluckily, she had only taken herself into account when making such a movement, and not the bubble-barrier or the four passengers in it.

"Ghhnn," escaped Kurama's lips as the barrier pressed against the ground. Being the one closer to the front, he was sent right along it and against the ground. He would have jumped not to collide, but two heavy weights crashing onto him blocked his exit. Hiei had been lucky enough to get out of the way. There was a moment of silent unease.

Then the barrier _bounced_.

The positions changed, and the barrier popped in mid-air, allowing more movement. Kurama landed in a crouched position next to the standing Hiei, who hn'ed, surely at the pathetic situation the redhead had just been at.

"Silence, Hiei," Kurama muttered, cleaning the corner of his lip as he straightened, letting his eyes roam over the eerily matching houses and their respective gardens, while the other two members of their team pulled themselves up. Botan was apologizing between nervous laughs, and Yuusuke cursed at her for clowning around.

"Where are we, anyway?" Yuusuke asked, pulling out of his tantrum, looking around and sticking his hands into his pockets. Not too far away, at the corner of the street, a sign would be spotted: Magnolia Road. Too bad he couldn't read it.

"It doesn't matter, we need to get the dog," Botan said, her oar gone and her hands on her hips.

"There," Kuwabara pointed, just as the last glimpse of a silver tail disappeared behind a house, and through a gate.

"After it!" Yuusuke called, almost excitedly as he started to run. They met with a long gate leading to a park. It was not locked, so simply pushing the gate granted access. "A park? Why did it come to a park?"

"I don't think it came for the park itself, Yuusuke," Kurama pointed out.

The dog was just ahead, sniffing at the swings at the play area. His ears snapped up a moment later, and he made a dash right back towards them and the gates.

"Catch it!"

* * *

Harry couldn't seem to be able to go to sleep that night.

He sat at the bed, looking through the pages of last year's spell book with only the soft light of _lumos_ to help his eyes make out the words. It had been a bit hard to get sleep ever since he was told he would be going to the Burrow anytime soon. That could mean anything from "this afternoon" to "next week". And it was becoming evident that the later was most likely, as they hadn't come for him yet, and nearly seven days had gone by without further notice of their arrival.

The boy sighed as he closed the book slowly, pushing his glasses up to rub his eyes. He'd thought he wasn't eager to return to Hogwarts, but since he'd been told he would leave this place, he'd been impatient.

His eyes wandered towards the window in a feeble attempt to find ease on the night sky, but he was only reminded that Hedgiw was not yet back from her night hunt. So finally, the glance just made him feel rather lonely.

Pushing the book away and under his bed, Harry nudged and tugged on the blankets, deciding he would try to get some sleep. Before he could settle down nicely, though, there was a loud cracking sound right out of his house.

Someone had just used Apparition.

Quickly sliding out of bed, Harry moved to the window, peering outside. There was one shadowed figure there, looking around the street. His (or her?) face was covered by a hood, but it was an average wizard robe. Maybe it was a member of the Order... But he seemed a bit lost. Well, there were still some members of the Order that Harry didn't know, some were bound not to have visited his home before... Or maybe it was just too dark and they couldn't see the number? The houses certainly gave nothing out at first glance.

He went over to the nightstand to get his wand just in case, placing it in his pocket before silently making his way downstairs. Actually, if the loud cracking sound outside hadn't woken the Dursleys, he doubted muffled footsteps would. He paused at the doorway. The figure outside was still at the sidewalk. There seemed to be no more people around... Maybe it wasn't someone from the Order, but it didn't need to be a Death Eater. After all, he shouldn't doubt the adults' abilities to keep him safe...

Yeah, sure.

The only other reasonable option was that a random Wizard Apparated incorrectly and ended up at Privet Drive. It was better to be wary, as he had no means of contacting the adults that were meant to protect him.

He opened the door and allowed it to be loud, just so the person would turn to him. They couldn't harm him while he stood inside this house, but he doubted they knew that. And sure enough, the figure pulled out a wand and pointed it right at him.

"_Expelliarmus!"_ Harry yelled, his wand already out and aimed.

The other wizard's wand flew out of his hand, and he turned to fetch it, but Harry sent a stunning spell. Yes, he was breaking the Ministry's laws, but he would rather go through another trial than get killed by the Death Eaters.

However, as the person fell forward the hood left his head, and Harry could make out the startled face of a rather young man. He couldn't be older than eighteen years old...

Harry waited for a moment, unsure of what he had done, and what he should do. No one seemed to have noticed the ruckus, and he couldn't hear the Dursleys. Then again, it would be rather hard to notice the footsteps over the sound of his pounding heart on his ears.

He took a step out of the house, and waited. Nothing. Harry quickly made his way over to the person he had just stunned, pushing him to turn him around. Not surprisingly, he seemed too young to be a Death Eater. But just to be certain, Harry yanked the person's stiff arm and pulled up the sleeve. The hint of a familiar tattoo was just coming in sight when he heard hasty footsteps, some swifter than others. He turned around harshly, arm snapping out to point his wand, but they were faster than him.

He cursed between gritted teeth as his hand was brushed by a boiling hot ray of light. This flung his wand away as effectively as _Expelliarmus _would have, though this method was more messy, as it left his fingers' skin sizzling where the spell had touched. Those were shallow burns, and he didn't dare take his eyes away from the scene in front of him: he was surrounded. Completely trapped. His way back to Number Four of Privet Drive was blocked by a Death Eater, as any other escape routes he might have hoped to use. And the wizards were closing in, his wand kicked away by the one up front. He knew who they were, but he couldn't tell who was behind which mask yet.

"That was easier than expected," the voice of the tallest and roughest-looking Death Eater said. He was creepily recognizable, Harry noticed, recalling the same bulky shape from their fight at the Department of Mysteries.

"Who would have thought a distraction would show up by itself."

THAT voice was unmistakable, and Harry felt free to glare at the masked shape of Lucius Malfoy. Hadn't the Ministry caught him and a lot of other Death Eaters?

"Let's take him back to the Dark Lord," the coarse man said, nearing Harry, stretching out his hand to grab the teenager's arm.

_How was I so reckless,_ Harry thought, moving back but not too far, knowing he was still rounded. This kind of hurried course of action was what had killed his God-Father.

He glared as the Death Eater grabbed his arm and tugged him up, giving a jerk so he wouldn't look as useless as he felt. After all those years of escaping Voldemort by himself and surviving his murder attempts, he was being caught by such a dumb trick. And unlike the Ministry, there was no escape here. Fighting would attract the attention of muggles, not to mention they might get hurt. But maybe if Mrs. Figgs was watching, she could call Dumbledore...

"Aaah!"

Harry turned his head just in time to see a silver figure tackling Lucius Malfoy to the ground, maw opening wide and fangs sinking into the man's arm.

"What's that!"

Harry took the Death Eater's surprise to wrench his arm away and make a dive for his wand. A spell was fired his way, and he rolled to the side as it flew past him, his fingers closing around his wand.

"_Protego!"_ A small shield formed around him, just in time to deflect the same burning spell. They wouldn't aim _Avada Kedavra_ at him: Voldemort surely would have ordered them to bring him back alive. So this spell should work nicely, at least for a while.

The figure that had tackled Malfoy, a big white dog, jumped back as the Death Eaters threw several hexes its way. The way it's fur tangled and the almost human movements it tried at random times fascinated the green-eyed teenager, despite the change of the fur's color. But it couldn't be! They all said he wouldn't come back!

His godfather (_It has to be him!_) charged at the larger of the Death Eaters, who was trying to get Harry back. The man turned and yelled two words, a jet of green light coming from his wand and hitting the dog square on the chest.

"Sirius!" Harry cried, dropping his shield to go over to the wounded animal. Before he could take two steps, though, a bright light exploded from the beast.

Once he could regain the ability to see without shielding his eyes with his arm, Harry looked at the dog... only to find it wasn't a dog anymore.

In the spot where the dog had been was now a man, quite alive. His features reminded Harry of the young Black he'd only seen in photos. The long black hair had turned to white, like the dog's fur, and the robes covering his body (odd, even for a wizard) were the same color. There was no strong expression in the young face, though the eyebrows were slightly furrowed in disgust.

Another yet of green light went the man's way, but it didn't even touch his skin, deflecting an inch and half from the male's body.

Sirius (Harry couldn't really find anything else to call him) lunged forward a moment later, taking out two Death Eaters with simple movements of his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the largest of the Death Eaters pulling up his sleeve.

"_Stupefy!"_ The spell hit the male neatly, as he'd been too busy trying to call his Lord to notice Harry hadn't remained in shock. Now the only Death Eater standing was Malfoy, though he too was wounded, his arm bleeding. They had not expected to be taken by surprise by a dog, of all things.

"It's not over, Potter," Lucius spat, moving over to the larger Death Eater and grasping his arm, a loud pop marking their exit through apparition.

Harry turned to the male standing blankly at the street. Now that there was no harm, he seemed to be just… standing there. So Harry went closer. This couldn't be another trick from Voldemort. The teen paused a foot away from the man, looking at his face. He had a nasty feeling in his stomach and a knot in his throat made it hard to swallow. This man was definitely Sirius Black. But he was so different! He wasn't like the mischievous prankster he was recognized as in his Hogwarts years, nor the shabby, stubborn, confident, and slightly mad god-father Harry had met in his third year at the castle.

"What...?"

He felt a quick and solid hit somewhere behind his head, and everything turned black.

* * *

"You didn't have to be so rough," Yuusuke pointed out, raising an eyebrow as he watched the boy fall forward.

"We don't have time for explanations, it's bad enough a bunch of monkeys saw it," Hiei spat, jerking his head to the white spirit, who caught the black-haired teen so he wouldn't slide to the ground. As if the time the fight consumed and during which they had to remain hidden hadn't been problematic enough, now they had to deal with a teenager? Hiei just had to do things his way to save time. And even after all the protectiveness the dog had showed towards the boy by rushing into the street, he didn't seem to think of Hiei as a threat.

"Well, only two will remember," Kurama stated, looking from the two males slumped together a few feet away to the apparently petrified one not too far from his right foot. He pulled out a seed from his hair, allowing it to bloom into a small flower. He knelt down, and blew the pollen right into the man's face. Walking over to the other two, he repeated the process. "Should we leave them here?"

"The other monkeys will deal with them," Hiei said dismissively, hands back in his coat.

Soon after they left the park, they had all been forced to hide between and behind the houses, staying out of sight. A bunch of wizards had gone check what was happening, though most dismissed it as a dog messing with the garbage cans (Botan had stumbled with some as she got back to her oar and fled the spot). Still, they would soon return here, after all that noise.

"Then let's get going!" Botan said, appearing just above them. "I'll take the--oh... he can change his shape?" the girl asked, frowning lightly at the spirit-thing-man, that had the teenager in his arms already and seemed to be checking for wounds.

"It seems so," Kurama said. Kuwabara moved forward to take the human from the man. The white spirit stared hard at him while he did so, but did not interfere at all. "What did he call him...?"

"Sirius," Yuusuke said, frowning. "But just who is this Potter guy? He doesn't seem any older than us, but he was the one targeted."

"At least now we have names," Botan cheered, before moving to fly right next to the spirit. "I'll be taking him back, then, and I'll tell Koenma what happened. You guys can go back by yourselves, right?" She raised off the ground with the spirit sitting sideways behind her, obedient as he was quiet.

"Oi, come back, it will still be raining back there! Drop us at the inn!" Yuusuke demanded with a frown. "What do we do with the kid, anyway!"

"Just leave him there, and get out," the girl said, waving cheerily before flying off, opening a portal at mid-air and disappearing.

"Seriously..." Yuusuke muttered, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Should I just leave him, then?" Kuwabara asked, motioning to the guy he was half-carrying, half-supporting. The kid was as tall as Yuusuke, maybe closer in height to Kurama.

"We have no choice," the other redhead pointed out. "They're coming. Just place him on the sidewalk and get out."

"Sure thing, Fox-Boy," Yuusuke said, waiting until Kuwabara placed the kid down to run off with the rest of the group.

* * *

_Author Notes:_

"_... "Well, Dumbledore thought it would be safe for now." " _: Seriously, I can't picture a Dark Wizard, with the "we hate muggles and anything that has something to do with them" and all, thinking of interfering a phone line as strategy to get information from the Order. Can you?

"_...with only the soft light of lumos to help his eyes." _: Wizards are not supposed to cast magic until they are of age (Seventeen). However, Harry was using this spell, and even a stronger branch of it, at the beginning of one of the movies. I faintly remember him using it out of school a few more times. So let's just take it as a blind point in the Ministry's eyes over the teenagers. Surely it wouldn't be harmful to cast it out of the school, even if it was in front of a muggle: they would think it's a trick or, the wand, a toy.

" "_Sirius," Yuusuke said, frowning. "But just who is this Potter guy?" "_ : So. Harry was talking English. Yuusuke, Kuwabara, Hiei and Kurama talk in Japanese (I just don't feel like making a fancy code for you to have it easier knowing what language they are talking, like Japanese "English"). So even if they get the sound right, they probably won't get the spelling correct the first time. But Koenma can deal with that. IGNORE this culture-clash-thing.


	4. Dejavú

Prior Author Notes: Thanks for Reading.

Harry Potter and the Arc of Death

**Chapter 4.- **_Deja-vú_

The soft sound of voices hummed in his ears, and beneath his fingers he could feel the smooth texture of a blanket. Everything was dark, and soon Harry noticed that it was so because he had his eyes closed. As soon as that kind of logic thoughts started reaching his head, he became aware of the thumping ache on the back of his head. It wasn't as bad as the head-splitting pain he'd sometimes get from his scar, but it was still bothersome.

His eyes fluttered open, and the teenager instinctively moved a hand over to the nightstand to fetch his glasses. But there was no nightstand, and Harry finally realized this was not his room. A startled squeak came from somewhere near him, and a blur of red hair came into sight. Quick words – questions – and a hand on his forehead...

"I'm okay, Mrs. Weasley," Harry muttered, closing his eyes only to open them again when someone placed a pair of glasses in his hand. "Thanks," he said, putting them on and feeling his world become comprehensible. He found familiar bright colors all over the walls, with a certain Quidditch Team name on them: he was in Ron's room at the Burrow. It was better than waking up in a graveyard or anywhere of the sort, but he couldn't really understand why he was here in the first place.

The boy sat up, just a bit disturbed that he was not wearing the clothes he went to sleep with, and looked around. There was only Molly, Ron and Ginny Weasley in the room. A bushy-haired brunette stood at the doorway with a smile directed his way.

It took Harry a while to notice Mrs. Weasley was talking to him.

"... and I was so worried when Arthur and the other members of the Order came in with you unconscious!" the woman said, commanding over a tray with a flick of her wand. It was pushed onto Harry's lap eagerly, and the boy stared at the meal for a moment (two fat sausages, a plate of oatmeal, a large glass of juice, toast, and an apple) while he tried to remember what had happened last night.

The trap.

Death Eaters surrounding him.

A white blur that rushed towards them and turned into...

Harry's head snapped up. "I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

Mrs. Weasley gave him one of her caring yet unyielding looks, reaching out to attempt to fix his hair. "Of course, Harry, he'll be here this afternoon. You can talk to him then, so eat something and take it easy until he arrives, alright, hun?"

Harry nodded numbly, pinching a sausage with his fork and taking a bite. Smiling in that kindhearted way only mothers could manage, Mrs. Weasley turned, gave her children a stern glance that Harry completely missed, and headed out, muttering something about the twins coming for dinner.

"Hey, mate," Ron said, moving closer to the bed once the echo of the woman's steps dimmed at the stairs. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Harry replied, shaking his head and pushing the tray away after trying to drink down the juice. He was too anxious to eat such a large meal. He heard Hermione closing the door and moving over along with Ginny, the girls sitting at either side of his feet. He decided to cut the chase. "I saw Sirius."

Ron blinked, Ginny seemed to shrink a bit, and Hermione frowned in a concerned way.

"Harry... You couldn't have seen Sirius, because—"

"I know," Harry cut, slightly flushed. He was not in the mood for a lecture about his feelings over the ordeal. "But I saw him. Or at least, I think it was him..." He could recall the big white dog dashing into Privet Drive and tackling Malfoy's cloaked shape. Like his own silver stag. "He looked like a patronus."

"Well, maybe one of the Aurors cast it..." Ron mumbled, but he obviously didn't believe it. Out of all spells and hexes they could use to aid Harry, why would someone pick a_ patronus_ when there weren't any dementors around? And why would someone coincidently have a _patronus_ that turned into a big Grim-like dog?

Harry shook his head and straightened himself in bed. Then, he explained what had happened last night – it helped him remember the foggy details, and he would have to repeat the story at least two more times today, for sure.

"It sounds so weird," Hermione said, frowning. She had not suggested that Harry were hallucinating, probably because his story was more logic than assuming Harry had made it out of such a trap by himself. The guy had managed incredible things before, yes, but this time he didn't have much more than a bruise. That was far too much luck, even for Harry Potter. "It can't be a ghost, because they aren't solid, and a _patronus_ can't change it's shape like that."

"That's what I thought. I wanted to talk to him, but everything went black," Harry murmured, reaching back and rubbing his head, grunting. There was a sore spot there, and he could feel a bump where the skin bulged a little. "I didn't faint. Someone knocked me out." And in an odd way, too. A stunning spell was easier.

"Well, THAT doesn't make any bloody sense," Ron said with a frown. "Why would someone do that and leave you at the street? The Aurors said they found you unconscious, but the rest of the Death Eaters were, too..."

_It doesn't make sense, alright. If a Death Eater had knocked me out, they wouldn't have left me at the street like tha—_

"Wait. What Aurors?" he asked, frowning.

"The ones that have been watching over you since vacations began," Ginny joined in, a scornful look in her face.

"Watching over me?" Harry repeated, eyebrows knitting together. "The Order has Aurors watching—!!"

"It's not what you think," Hermione interrupted quickly, not seeming happy either. "It wasn't Dumbledore, it was Fudge."

"The Minister of Magic?"

"Not for long," Ron stated, crossing his arms over his stomach. "Everyone thinks he's a complete fool, now that everyone knows of You-Know-Who. Everybody is siding with you and Dumbledore," he added, giving a grin. Harry returned it only half-heartedly. Somehow, it didn't seem too encouraging that they believed him at the moment.

"But Fudge still wants to be Minister of Magic," Hermione continued. "And he thought that having Aurors guard you would make the wizards like him more. So far, it has done nothing but interfere with your security. Mr. Weasley was ready to go fetch you a couple days ago, but the Ministry wouldn't let him get near. They said those were their security measures. Dumbledore was about to get permission to move you here when the attack occurred. One of the Aurors that was guarding you is a member of the Order, he contacted Dumbledore when they found you last night."

"It was an uproar," Ron assured. "Dumbledore went there with dad and brought you here. He's out because of troubles with the Ministry: Fudge wants to get you to a safer place, so Professor Dumbledore's there to tell them the safest place at the moment is the Burrow. They've set up various protective spells and there's a whole password system to get in the house. It's better than just patrolling around your neighborhood."

_Quite,_ Harry thought. He could have been here since a week ago, and then he wouldn't have been tricked to come out of his uncle's house. Then again, he wouldn't have seen Sirius...

"You should eat something, Harry," Hermione finally said, pushing the tray back towards him. "Maybe Dumbledore will know something about what you saw," she commented.

"Alright, alright," Harry said. It was the least he could do, as Hermione had swallowed the lecture she surely wanted to give him about being reckless and letting himself be captured.

That was a beginning, and he would get to talk to Dumbledore later.

* * *

"Why are we _still_ here?" Yuusuke sighed, sprawled on the bed closest to the window and staring at the ceiling.

"It's only been a day," Kurama said, pulling the curtain, tugging it just the right way so he wouldn't be seen from the street. "But Koenma's gathering of information _should_ be faster..."

Actually, not even a day had gone by. Since the incident at the place they now knew was Little Whinging, Surrey, it had been only half a day. But the lack of sleep made Yuusuke cranky, the redhead knew.

Today, the system of taking breaks was back in order, and half of the team was at the inn to watch over the red-phone entrance. They knew that there were many more entrances, but all others were positioned in rather public places (like bathrooms, from what Kuwabara had commented). It wasn't much, as it seemed to be a rather unpopular entrance, but it was something. Now that there was no transporting of dangerous criminals, it was back in service.

"You should take a nap," Kurama offered. "I'll ask Hiei to go watch with me instead of you." Hiei would surely accept, if just so he didn't need to spend his break near Kuwabara.

"Thanks, man," Yuusuke said cheerfully, rolling over and hugging a pillow. "See you in a few."

"Mhm."'

The street was quite empty in front of him. A muggle with a bunch of papers in his arms ran past the red phone, not noticing the top sheet falling off and landing somewhere near a post-light. A little girl danced on the water puddles left from last day's endless rain, what seemed to be a nanny tagging behind while fetching a candy out of her purse. Nothing but a plastic envelope went past the street for ten minutes.

It was not often that he could stare into space like this. And it was obvious why: there were many and more constructive things he could do with his free time than enjoy the scenery. Besides, he'd learned how to quickly take in his surroundings from his years as Youko. Little details could mean the difference between a successful raid and being caught and eaten alive. Staring at the landscape just for fun was something he missed doing, despite everything.

And just as he wished he could spend the rest of his break in such a peaceful way, something happened.

A faint murmur brought Kurama's attention to the red phone, which was missing the flooring. Soon, two persons came into view. A man and a woman, from what he could see, and both wizards. The fox's eyes were naturally drawn to their pointy hats – he'd seen the robes, but he hadn't actually thought they used those things. And despite the woman's dark robes, the tall old man had a cheerful golden pattern on his garments.

The man was definitely a human. But the woman? There was something weird about her. She wasn't a demon, no, but...

Two pairs of eyes turned to his general direction. Very carefully, Kurama moved back two inches to conceal himself better, holding his breath for a moment. He wasn't sure if they had seen him, but he'd rather not take any risks. He waited until he couldn't feel their energy anymore, and peered. Nothing. The street was empty, and little droplets of rain were hitting the floor once more.

So much for a peaceful respite.

* * *

"...and I woke up here," Harry finished for the third time that day, eyes locking with the baby blue orbs of the Headmaster. He was glad to find the man did not look away anymore.

"Hm... It is certainly intriguing. And I'm afraid I don't have any clue of what it might be at the moment. I'll undoubtedly look some more into it." The elderly man didn't seem too bothered, though, and Harry's expression darkened very faintly. "Is something the matter, Harry?"

"No..." Harry shook his head a bit. "But… would you tell me if you find anything about it?" If Hermione hadn't found something by the time. Harry knew she was already looking through her books, and the first place she would go to once the term started would be the library.

"Of course, Harry," the man said, giving him a smile reflected in his eyes.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, standing from the kitchen table as the man did.

Once in the main hall, Dumbledore went to talk to Mr. Weasley, and Harry headed upstairs to get away from the noise at the living room and to escape from the tense atmosphere that loomed over the first story of the house. The teenager had to move around a small mountain of luggage, pausing to grab hold of a backpack he recognized as his own, before continuing his way upwards. With every step, the angry calls of Molly Weasley went dimmer, but they didn't withdraw entirely, even when he reached the end of the narrow stairs.

He headed for Ron's room, where the redhead and Hermione were.

"I didn't think Mrs. Weasley was still so upset with the twins," Harry commented, grimacing at the sound of a particularly strong stomp.

"Neither did we. But she's been bottling up most of it and the twins haven't been home too often since they abandoned Hogwarts, so..." With a dismissive shrug of his shoulders, Ron leaned back on his bed, biting down on a pastry he was not supposed to be having before dinner.

"She just exploded," Harry nodded. Mrs. Weasley would have to calm down eventually. It wasn't as though what they did was worse than Percy Weasley's complete disregard to his own family. Then again, Percy had graduated... "It'll be calm by dinner."

"Hopefully," Hermione agreed. She looked up from a thick book set on her lap. "Weren't Bill and Charlie coming, too?"

"Only Charlie. Bill can't leave Egypt right now. Something nasty about a curse on a tablet and fingers falling off people's hands."

"Sounds nasty," agreed Harry. "Can they, you know, replace them?"

"Not until Bill breaks the curse on the tablet. But they've got plenty of jars to store fingers until then, so it should be fine until then."

Harry noticed that the sound of yelling had subdued already. He opened his mouth to make a comment about it, but a loud squawking noise made them all wince, just before Mrs. Weasley started yelling again.

"Maybe by tomorrow..." he corrected himself, shaking his head and reaching into his backpack to pull out a shirt. Ron's was nice, but as non-fitting to him as Duddley's were. That, and the little mouse sewed at the hem of the shirt that ran around his waist was starting to bother him.

* * *

Days came and went quickly, though for the group of four teenagers squeezed together in one room, it wasn't nearly quick enough. And for a certain fire apparition, it seemed to go even slower.

He'd quickly claimed the inn's roof as his own, denying to share a bed as long as he could help it. The area was unclean: one of the corners had piles and piles of boxes (he had no interest in knowing what filled those), and there were filthy waves on the floor where dust had dried up since the last drizzle. There was also the faintest odor of wet cat, which reminded Hiei of how the lowest kind of imp smelled when it sweat.

Overall, he felt right at home.

The short demon sat comfortably against the wall next to the door connected to the stairs, enjoying the silence and the clear sky ahead. He was supposedly watching over his given area, but he would just be loosing his time. He'd already inspected every corner of the streets, and he'd even ventured into the magic alley he'd found the other day. Of course he'd gone during nighttime, and just to have a better grasp of the spot, but he already knew who came and who went.

Just to make sure, though, he'd loosened his headband, letting the Jagan open barely a centimeter. His features were relaxed, arms crossed over his chest. He had tried to find a comfortable tree to nap on, but the closest one was in a very busy street, so this would have to do for the moment.

"This place brings back memories."

"Hn," Hiei acknowledged Kurama, not stirring from his position even as the kitsune came to stand next to him.

"Not fond ones, but memories alright..."

A small smirk tugged at Hiei's lips. "Even the great Youko Kurama had to spend some time in the low towns." The expression solidified in his face when he heard the fox's response: a low grunt of displeasure.

A small tingle across his spine made him open his eyes. "Looks like Koenma sent backup."

"Oh?" Hiei watched the redhead move closer to the edge of the roof, looking to the distance as if he would see them from that spot. There were too many buildings for that. "How many?"

"Two." By car, given the speed with which they advanced through Hiei's area and into Yuusuke's unprotected one. "They're heading this way."

"Not spirit detectives or demons..." The fire apparition looked over at Kurama upon hearing the lazy comment, finding the fox's attention snatched away by something on the street. He joined the redhead and glanced down. A man, a wizard, with long white beard and light glasses, was using the red-phone entrance. He disappeared underground without giving a single glance their way, and Kurama seemed just slightly disappointed.

"They're here," Hiei stated a moment later, bringing the fox back to reality. The sound of a motor died as a small human vehicle parked on the street across the red phone.

"Let's go greet them, then," suggested Kurama, raising his eyebrows at the human shapes that abandoned the car. "Didn't know they could be male..."

Hiei grunted a dismissive sound and flicked out of sight, moving to stand in front of the red phone in a matter of seconds. Kurama was nowhere to be seen, so he surely was using the stairs. Humans and their odd habits of not jumping down roofs in public.

He allowed his attention to focus on the two figures approaching. Tall, pale, with dark hair, unnaturally bright eyes and hearts that beat just a second too slowly... definitely not human.

"Ferry boys?" he asked in a brief tone, raising an eyebrow at the taller of the two, who was in return giving him an impolite glare.

"Grim Reapers, actually," he muttered, lifting his chin in an arrogant way. His haircut was that of a businessman, his eyebrows thick, and his lips so thin he almost didn't seem to own a pair. His accent was also too brisk for Hiei's like.

Giving a mocking look right back, Hiei snapped, "Same thing," and allowed the male to walk right past him. That annoying buzzing sound hummed in Hiei's ears as he heard the Grim Reaper mutter a few things to himself in a familiar language. English, though his accent was different from the people around.

"Sorry about that. Mr. Grim isn't in a very good mood, with the Minister and Master Koenma calling..."

The other newcomer, still standing in front of Hiei, with his arms loaded with stacks of paper and two suitcases, gave a much weaker first impression. His hair was short yet far too untidy, his button-up white shirt was only half-way tucked into his pants, and his face just had a friendly look that annoyed the short fire demon to no end

It was rather obvious that this guy was a trainee.

Thankfully, Hiei didn't need to deal with him, as Kurama had (finally) arrived to the spot to greet the co-worker.

"Hello. I'm Kurama. I assume Koenma sent you?" the redhead asked, a glint in his eyes giving away his amusement at the apprentice's attempts to shake hands with him without dropping a single sheet of paper. Not that anyone but Hiei would have noticed that detail in the green eyes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir, my name's Romeo. And, yes—well, not really. Mr. Grim... well, his name is Sebastian Grim, he was Head of Grim Reapers until a few months ago... well, Mr. Grim was called by the Minister of Magic here, some Fudge guy, so he would come check some odd object they have in the Ministry. We were just heading here when Master Koenma contacted him to fill in about what's going on." He was noisy. Hiei was disliking him even more by the minute. "We'll go check the Arc of Death, sir, and we'll stay here a few days, so Master Koenma says you can all head back to Japan – I can open a portal to Reikai if you'd like."

Well, what do you know? Maybe he wasn't that bad, after all.

Of course, they had to wait for Kuwabara to return from his round, which left the other three members of the team sitting on the inn's roof, listening to the Grim Reaper's rant about... well, Hiei wasn't really paying attention.

"So we came all the way from America on plane. Humans are so interesting nowadays! I'm so glad I could become a Grim Reaper. Decades in the Spirit World piling up papers for ogres were worth it, though!"

Yuusuke seemed quite content with the newcomer. Of course, he was used to dealing with a major idiot, Hiei thought, so this guy should be easy to handle.

"You remind me of a certain someone with clear hair," Yuusuke chuckled. "But I thought ferry girls were, you know, supposed to be girls..."

"Oh, I'm not a ferry girl. We do basically the same, though..." Romeo's nose scrunched slightly as he struggled for a correct explanation. "It all depends on beliefs, really. We stick to America, so we take the shape humans want to see most when they face, well, Death. So we turn into traditional Grim Reapers. You know..." he made a shielding motion around his head, without covering the face. "...with the black cloaks and the hoodies. We float and... and stuff... but I'm not good with floating yet, so I kind of cling to Mr. Grim's coat..."

He moved his hands around quite a lot while talking. Hiei found himself staring at them absently, but he stopped himself when he caught Kurama's amused stare on him. Grunting, he turned.

"Hey guys! What are you all doing here?" Kuwabara's voice came with the sound of rusty hinges.

"We're going back to Japan," the detective's voice had a most gleeful tone to it, and the other idiot soon joined the cheering.

"Oh, right. I'll open up a portal, then."

Hiei turned his eyes back to the Reaper, who was now holding a Scythe almost as tall as him. It surely came from the same place that Botan's paddle did. It was an interesting sight, the weapon, even more once you noticed the fact that where Romeo's hands touched the object, skin and muscle faded to give a clear sight of the hand's bones. Creepy but... enjoyable. At least to the fire demon's eyes. It gave out the fact that the scythe had magical properties that could be interesting to master.

The swift swing of the blade made the sunlight illuminate the metal incandescently, and the tip tore the air it touched, leaving a nice, human-sized portal that cracked and threw sparks as though it was a broken power line.

"Are you coming along?" Yuusuke asked, looking warily from the portal to the Reaper.

"No. I need to get back to Mr. Grim, he needs his notes," Romeo answered, oblivious to the detective's wariness.

"Ehh... Kuwabara, you go in first."

"What! No way, Urameshi, you go!"

"They wouldn't let him open a portal if he didn't know how to," Hiei snapped, moving behind Kuwabara and kicking him so quickly that he didn't have time to react before going through the portal, which threw some more sparks before settling down to the initial noise.

"I can go in myself," Yuusuke said readily, disappearing before Hiei could flex his leg again.

"It was nice to meet you, Romeo." Hiei rolled his eyes lightly and went through the portal, leaving Kurama to his characteristic courtesy while he went back to Reikai. He was more than a bit frustrated when he stepped off the portal, only to find himself in Koenma's office.

"Did you find out what the dog is?" he asked, stepping out of the way so the fox could step in.

"Almost. I found who he is," Koenma said, spreading a few papers on the desk. Various copies of original documents, right next to their translation. There were a few photos as well, of a man resembling the dog's human shape, with the exception of their hair being a different color... "Black Sirius. He has some demon blood in him, but it's nothing significant. He was disowned by the Black family; known at school for being a troublemaker. He was falsely accused of murdering several humans and sent to a high-security wizard jail, which he escaped from, nearly twelve years later. He's a fugitive... but he died a short time ago. My guess would be that he entered the Arc. Now, after making the ogres check all the Death Lists of Europe, we know that he _was_ scheduled to die soon, anyway, but since we don't have Soul Dealers watching over the United Kingdom, there was no one watching out for his soul to be taken o Reikai – who knows how many mistakes like this might have happened in the last few centuries...!"

Conceivably, that was the reason Koenma took so long in contacting them. Investigation on such a wide area was heavy work. Botan was, almost certainly, stuck with paperwork as well.

"Can you fix it, then?" Yuusuke cut in, uninterestedly

"We tried. But it's useless – we can't bring him back to life like we did with you. His body has been lost in the Arc."

The screen next to Koenma's desk snapped on right then, showing the white man they now knew as Sirius. He was just sitting at a stool, staring off into space... quite a change from the restless dog and the protective man they had seen so far. Hiei's eyes caught faint black lines traced on the ground around him: thick brush lines spelling a single line over and over again. The apparition was sealed within that little circle, just like the Kokuryuuha had been sealed with bandages.

The baby looked at the screen for a few seconds before turning back to the team. "We tried all passive methods we have to make him rest in peace, but nothing works. I don't want to order a hostile technique, we're not sure what consequences that would have on the portal at the Ministry."

"Sounds complicated. Good luck finding a way to fix it," the unspoken leader of the team said, waving lightly and starting to turn towards the door—

"I'm afraid it's more complicated than that."

--only to sigh and grumble a few impolite words to the Reikai Ruler.

The image on the screen changed, showing the recognizable face of a young, black-haired human teenager smiling to who seemed to be friends, an ice cream in his hand and an oddly-shaped scar peering through his fringe. The crowd and buildings visible behind them were easy enough to recognize, too: it was that wizard marketplace Hiei had found some time ago.

"Hey, that's the kid Hiei knocked out!" Kuwabara called, pointing at the picture as though it wasn't obvious. "What was it they called him... eh…"

"Potter," Koenma filled in, taking a small glance to a sheet of paper. "Potter Harry. _The-Boy-Who-Lived, only survivor to the Killing Curse and hero of the magic community._" he read in a monotone tone. "It's a quote from a relatively recent wizard book focused on history. It seems the guy is quite famous." He pushed a few papers towards the border of the table for them to grab. "These are summaries on him and his activities in the last few years."

Hiei grabbed the paper Kurama handed him, running his eyes over the information. One of his eyebrows arched beneath the white band around his head.

"Killed someone when he was one year old, stopped some freak from stealing a magic stone when he was eleven, killed a giant snake when he was twelve, survived the attack of a convict and a werewolf when he was thirteen, participated in a deathly dangerous tournament when he was fourteen... Hey, that sounds familiar," Yuusuke said, showing moderate surprise. _"Recently escaped from a group of murderers, helping the Ministry locate most of them_. The guy sounds impressive."

"It seems to me that he's still alive only thanks to sheer luck," Kurama nodded.

"Like you, Urameshi!" mocked Kuwabara.

"Shut up," he snapped.

"Just who is this Voldemort?" Kurama continued, running a finger over a few of the lines.

"The guy Potter supposedly killed when he was a baby. He was an immense threat to England over a decade ago, mass murderer and leader of a group called the Death Eaters. People thought he was death until a month or so ago, but Potter and the Headmaster of his school had been telling the wizards that the guy was alive since last year. No one believed them then, but now they do. Something must have happened at the Ministry." Koenma said, opening his mouth to add something.

"Black is the kid's Godfather," Hiei commented casually, checking the notes on the very end. Of course, the fact itself was not relevant – there was no mystic connection between kids and their godfathers.

"...Yes. I was going to that. He was also the criminal supposedly chasing Potter when he was thirteen. As he was falsely accused, and seeing how he rescued Potter a few days ago, I think it's logic that their true relation isn't public." Humans. Always getting things wrong. "But what is important is the fact that Black seems to sense when Potter is in danger. He had no way of knowing the kid was being ambushed, yet he escaped the research room just to go help him. I have a few worries about him going out at all: if he is hurt, it might reflect on the Arc. If he dies, I don't want to think about what would happen to the portal; it could destroy itself, or open wide enough for every demon in a radius of ten kilometers to notice and use it to get to England. Both alternatives would mean thousands of deaths."

"So, just keep him sealed until you can fix it," Hiei's tone was demanding.

"It's not that simple. Black has Seikoki. He will break through the seals if he really wants to. Which he will, if his godchild's safety is at risk."

"We could always go..." Hiei's eyes turned towards Kurama, slightly wide and completely unbelieving, "...and make sure Potter is safe until you find a way to take care of Black."

Koenma seemed perplexed for a moment. He cleared his throat quickly, though, and nodded. "Excellent suggestion. I would send a ferry girl, but Potter's records show he may be a magnet for trouble. If you four go guard him from a distance, though, it should be fine..."

"Hey, hold on moment! I though you called us here so we could head back to Japan, not send us to baby-sit some guy in England!" Yuusuke complained. "As I remember, we **already** stopped a portal to Makai from being opened this year."

"Well, there was a change in plans! Yuusuke, if we don't fix this, it could mean the end of the world as we—"

Potter's photo disappeared from the screen to show a panicking green ogre grasping the camera (or whatever it was that sent the video to the giant screen), while his skin turned a shade paler.

"K-koenma, sir, the dog spirit – the w-w-white-clad man – t-the apparition from the Arc has escaped!"

"WHAT!"

"Where have I heard that before?" Hiei was more annoyed by the lack of irritation in the fox's voice than the break out itself.

* * *

_Romeo And Sebastian Grim_ : Obviously, OC They will be in the story as secondary characters.

_Soul Dealers_ : Grim/Death Reapers, Ferry Girls, Shinigami, Angels of Death. They're the creatures that carry the souls of the deceased from the human world to the spirit world. (Only Ferry girls are canon)

_Seikoki, Holy Light Energy _: CANON: A special type of energy that is attained by wanting to change the world. You may remember that Sensui (Black Chapter Saga) used this type of energy. NON-CANON: Most of the Reikai rulers are born with this energy, like Koenma. Therefore, it's related to Gods.


	5. Amaterasu no Tou Gakkou

Prior Author Notes: Thanks for Reading.

Harry Potter and the Arc of Death

**Chapter 5.- **_Amaterasu no Tou Gakkou_

"It seems everything is in order, Mr. Gaoler," the tall man's steps echoed through the empty hallways of the Department of Mysteries, two other men following close behind. He could see the rims of robes vanish around corners, though they rarely came across another person. It would seem the employees that worked in this level were fitting to its name. "But I think it will be advantageous for the Ministry if I continue doing check-ups on the arch. It's truly an amazing artifact, and I would like to investigate more about it. My assistant will hand in regular reports on the advance we make."

Sebastian Grim stepped into the elevator, with his young trainee stumbling close behind. "I'll check in with the Head of the Department as soon as we get settled. Have a good day, Mr. Gaoler." He stretched his lips, flashing a thin smile while the doors closed right in front of Gaoler's taken-back face.

The red-haired man hadn't said more than two words in the course of their conversation. Sebastian talked quickly and almost never allowed questions: he did not have time to repeat himself to mindless idiots or simply annoying people. He was a distant, discourteous, and unyielding person, though not short-tempered by any means. It was all appearance.

He could feel his protégé's admiring eyes on him, as always. The boy was very easily impressed when it came to his master, which Sebastian found a bit annoying. But he'd let it slide this time.

He stepped out of the lift once it came to a stop, but couldn't take even five steps towards the exit before a bold obstacle came to stand in his way. And said obstacle came in the shape of a tall, elderly man with an extremely crooked nose and long, silver hair and beard. His sparkling blue eyes were focused on Sebastian in a way the reaper didn't like. It was like those eyes could see right through him, but he immediately discarded that option. Looking more closely, the old man was just that: a plain human. He was also plainly blocking Sebastian's advance, which caused Romeo to run into Sebastian, as the trainee had failed to notice his master had not kept walking.

"Mr. Grim. It's a pleasure to finally be able to meet you," the man said with a small nod of his head, offering a long-fingered hand to him. Sebastian shook it firmly and briskly, raising one of his thick black eyebrows.

"Wish I could say the same, Mr...?" Hopefully this wouldn't be another of the Ministry's lousy workers.

"Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore," was the reply.

Ah, yes... Albus ridiculously-long-name Dumbledore. The paperwork for Gellert had been pushed around the Spirit World for ages, as it usually happened with all formalities related to Europe, and it was one of the few Sebastian had added to his own pile of work. Albus' name was in nearly every page of the thick file.

"Yes, yes, Dumbledore! Man of legend. Truly an honor to meet you, but if you don't mind, we need to find a bank, and then a hotel," he said, most dismissively, but the man didn't bulge.

What's more, he was smiling kindheartedly at them, firm on his role as hindrance.

"Ah. I might have a better solution than a hotel, if you're planning to stay in London for a few months. You see, I'm the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We have a Floo Network for the staff, which can take you to the Ministry without trouble. Food and all other necessities wouldn't be a problem as long as you stayed."

"I don't think I would be a good teacher," Sebastian cut in curtly, deciding not to ask how the man knew he'd need to visit the Ministry often, as it was obvious the man was well-informed. Furthermore, the man's intentions were all too evident, and the Death Reaper had no time in his hands to waste with young wizards. He had enough of that back in North America, with magically-blocked teenagers taking out their anger by shooting their Muggle classmates or committing suicide. Stacks of paperwork, and whining human souls that denied to accept they couldn't stay on Earth and haunt their acquantices.

"On the contrary, with all your academic experience and fieldwork, I'm sure you would fit the job quite nicely. We are lacking in the Defense Against Dark Arts department this year, due to a small incident with the centaurs, so the post is open. I'm a bit bothered by this issue, as there are not many that will accept the job, and few of the willing ones are qualified for it."

"I'm really sorry about that, sir, but I have more important matters to attend to. Besides, I already have a job; I didn't come here on vacations."

"Completely understandable. Yet I'm also aware of the nature of your job, and perhaps something more stable would be the best for the time you stay here. Certainly your priorities are with the Ministry, and we could arrange it so classes wouldn't interfere with those matters. There is also..." Heck, the man was persistent. Sebastian's attention was no longer on the man, though his head would bob every so often to his chatter of the job and it's benefits. He was not going to get out of here with a simple "no", and if he did, the man would surely be after him. This couldn't be a simple offer for a job, no matter how desperate they were for staff. There had to be an ulterior reason, but Sebastian couldn't put his finger on it. The man was harder to read than the small print of Lord Enma's contracts.

"I see. On second thought, that sounds quite agreeable," he started, once the man was done with his speech regarding the delicious pastries at the welcoming feast. "But I'm running out of time, and I have a report to write for the American Minister. Do call me tonight to arrange a meeting, though, so we can discuss this further." He made a gesture with the head towards the shifting male behind him. "Romeo, please give Mr. Dumbledore my cell phone number, and I'll see you at the inn."

And with that, he abandoned his apprentice for the second time in the day.

* * *

Early July in Japan meant several days of cloudy skies and a clammy atmosphere, which was more bothersome than soothing in the middle of a warm afternoon. The students of Meiou High School certainly loved to complain about it, specially while they swept the floors and cleaned the blackboards.

Kurama had managed to slip away from the rest of the group by offering to clean the windows of the third floor near the gym. The hallway was often neglected, as the classrooms at the end were used for storage of desks and materials for the school festivals. There was also the fact that an overgrown and nearly dead tree leaned against the corner, it's branches making it awkward for a student to attempt to clean the outer side of the windows, but the lack of leaves on the tree made the dusty windows visible. It wouldn't do to have two or three filthy windows while the rest of the floor had pristine glass.

Personally, Kurama could care less about the school being spotless. He often avoided this period, as the detergent they used for cleaning left his hands reddish and irritated. He deemed it pathetic to have such a reaction to a cleaning product... not that anyone noticed, as it went away in five minutes.

With his sleeves rolled up, the redhead pulled himself onto the window edge, ignoring the uncomfortable hold as he reached out with a wet cloth. With slow circular movements, he drove away the little stains of unclean rain droplets. He had always thought it futile to clean windows during the rainy season, but it couldn't be helped. A branch moved out of the way for his hand to reach the frame of the window, and Kurama moved back into the building to grab a piece of newspaper. He straightened and got ready to haul himself on the border once more, only to find the spot had already been claimed.

"It's unusual to see you here, Hiei," he greeted the apparition, who didn't seem at all worried about the possibility of a human glancing up and seeing him standing on the window's ledge. Then again, the fire apparition had never been worried about being seen, he simply disliked dealing with humans.

"It's unusual to see you follow orders so eagerly," the black haired demon shot back, but the soft glare of his red eyes did not frazzle Kurama. "What are you planning, fox?"

"Well, for the immediate future, I just wanted to clean the windows." A red eyebrow arched appealingly. Hiei snorted and stepped off the ledge, standing against the opposing wall with his eyes fixed on Kurama. The male continued with his chore calmly.

A small silence stretched into minutes, before Hiei finally lost the little patience he always reserved for the fox. "They are sending us on a long-term mission to Europe to protect a **kid**, and it's your fault," he said, apparently deciding to cut the chase. "Why?"

It would be pretty pointless to lie at Hiei.

"We would have ended in a long-term mission there sooner or later. Koenma isn't aware yet of how complex the situation is."

"And you do?"

Green eyes darted over to the black-clad demon for a moment. "No. But I have a better idea of it." He knew that answer wouldn't be enough for Hiei. Granted, there was the risk of "the world as they knew it" being shattered, but it was not yet an emergency situation. Only Kuwabara would offer so readily, and even the redhead teenager had been disappointed at the thought of being away from home for so long. "And I have some unsolved matters to attend."

That managed to get Hiei's eyes off him.

Kurama climbed down his seat, untangling a little stubborn branch from his hair. "Has Koenma arranged everything?"

"Not yet. He can't just push us into the school by messing with it's archives." With the magic community freaking out about a powerful Dark Wizard reviving, they would surely be suspicious of everything. They had to aim for the route that would make them look less conspicuous. "He's going to use Japan's Magic School to infiltrate us."

Oh.

"You got a letter from them, didn't you?" Hiei asked, eyes still on Kurama. The redhead nodded.

"Yes. Back when I was eleven, during _kodomo no hi._ I didn't tell my mother, as I deemed it too risky. Perhaps it wouldn't have been such a bad idea to attend, though. It certainly would make things easier right now." He had been hinting his mother about the possibility of being sent to study overseas, from the moment he got back to Japan. He wasn't going to tell her it was a Magic School. "Kuwabara should have gotten one, too. Surely he denied."

"Hn."

Hiei obviously didn't care.

* * *

Koenma was having a hard time with this mission.

Asking such a favor of a magic school couldn't be left for the Ferry girls or the ogres to do. So the Prince of Reikai had disguised himself and gone to Ningenkai to settle things personally. Chewing softly on his pacifier, he gave one last wary look at the outer walls of the school before taking a step forward and past the gateway.

Amaterasu's Fighting School was located in the middle of a forest, hidden by several barriers and seals to keep humans and demons from finding it. There was a stream running along it's west side, and several clearings with flattened grass were scattered around it. It was far too obvious, by the alluring scent of blood in them, that these were practical training grounds. This area was specially thick with demon activity, and the school knew how to use it for their students' advantage.

Koenma couldn't say he agreed with these methods, but it did save him the trouble of getting more workers. If low-rank demons started gathering excessively in the forest, the school's best students would take care of them as part of their exams. Those demons would meet the same end if chased by a Spirit Detective, so it really wasn't a loss... though that type of practice often meant the students would be biased towards demons.

Going through the inner grounds of the school was easy, even if he did get many curious looks. None of the students were used to seeing visitors, but as they were far more interested in their upcoming vacations, they allowed it to slide. Many of them would have recognized him if he had come in his baby form. Maybe he would have been recognized if he hadn't put on a hat, as the **Jr.** on his forehead would be in plain sight; the students of this school were taught about the Spirit and Demon worlds, after all.

Really, other than that and the fighting lessons, the students here received the same education as all other Japanese kids. It wasn't fair to refer to this place as a "Magic School".

"Halt," a student of the oldest years demanded once he reached the doorway to the main building.

Like all the other students he'd seen so far, he wore a white tunic, black trousers and shoes, and a tear-shaped silver badge with "Amaterasu" carved with kanji on his tunic. But this one had something extra: a square badge made of black metal, on the opposite side of the school's badge, which surely granted the teenager with some authority over his fellow students.

"Is anyone expecting you, sir? I'm afraid you can't come into school grounds without a teacher's consent."

"She's not expecting me, but I'm sure Professor Chie can make some time for a brief meeting," Koenma replied, using the same polite tone the dark-haired young man was using, though adding a slightly commanding air to his voice. "I'm King Enma Jr. I have a favor to ask of the Headmistress."

The human teen didn't hesitate to give him a deep bow, once the initial shock was over, and when he straightened, he kept his eyes away from Koenma's face.

"Of course, your Highness, excuse my rudeness. It would be my pleasure to guide you to Professor Chie's office."

"Please do," Koenma said, barely able to hold back a grin. It was so refreshing to be around people that truly respected him! He had started to think that humans had lost all respect for the Gods.

Going through the school's hallways was quite easy and much more efficient with the student showing the way. The hallways were just wide enough not to be blocked by small groups of students, and the walls were decorated with copies of antique scrolls, shields, and paintings teaching old Japanese legends. An old-styled Japanese atmosphere was clear, and it made Koenma slightly nostalgic. It was definitely an impressive place, the school, with it's wooden polished floors and some porch-like hallways. The deeper you got into the school, though, the rarer that type of thing became. The stone walls lost the smooth surface to go into a slightly rougher, stronger-looking construction, and the staircase wasn't too different.

Koenma counted three staircases and five floors up before finally coming to a halt in front of a wooden door with various spells carved on it's edges. With another low bow, his guide took off, but Koenma could feel him lingering around, surely in case the ruler couldn't find his way out.

When he knocked on the door, Koenma could feel a tingling sensation on his knuckles. The door opened a few seconds later, and he pushed it open unceremoniously, stepping into the short hallway past it and through a door-less stone arch. The room beyond it was small and cozy, with bookcases against the corners and a few paper lamps hanging from the ceiling, their glow subdued by the strong sunshine pouring in through floor-to-ceiling windows across the entrance. The stumpy round table that sat on one of the far corners of the room, showing off a delicate-looking tea set and equally expensive cushions beneath it, looked very out-of-place to Koenma when compared to the opposite side of the room, where a long spear-like weapon rested bellow an undersized sword.

But Koenma's attention was drawn to the mature lady standing in front of the windows, with her back to him so all he could see was her long and pale black hair, streaked with grayish white that signaled her best years were past. She wore white and gold garments that faintly resembled a kimono, but leaned more towards the type of tunics Kurama so favored for combat.

"Bunko Chie." There was a wooden desk and three chairs between them and nothing more, but Koenma felt as though the air had thickened into a solid wall the moment he spoke. "It's been a long time."

The elderly woman turned slowly, her attractive face marred only by time and not wounds. But her eyes, Koenma noticed, had hardened and lost the tenderness they once held. Golden and red beads held black locks in a complex hairdo, and a small bell at the edge of her fringe tinkled with her movement.

"I didn't think I would see you again, Lord Koenma," she greeted with a small, stiff nod. "I would have arranged a proper welcome if I had received word of your visit."

"I'm sorry." He hoped the frustrated edge on his voice wasn't noticeable. If he had told her he was coming beforehand, she would have done everything in her power to evade a private conversation. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"It's fine," the woman said, pulling back the chair of her desk after motioning to one of the guest seats. Koenma took one, only so the woman wouldn't have an excuse to keep standing. "You're not intruding. I assume you didn't come by just to say hi, though." Koenma shook his head and the woman nodded, a grimace tugging imperceptibly at the corners of her lips, making her look a few years older. "How can I be of service?"

Koenma knew the woman would very much like to deny helping him – no matter how much she respected him, humans could hold grudges for a long time. And Koenma had never talked to her, back when this disturbance began. But it just wouldn't look good, and she surely would regret it later, if she didn't offer her help.

"I need to infiltrate some of my men to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said shortly, thumbs shifting against each other on his lap. "I'd send them to watch from the nearest town, but it's simply not enough. I need them inside the school, as they are to watch over a student, but I can't just make four students suddenly pop into the school's sixth year without any reliable setting behind them."

Bunko, who had been rummaging through a drawer of the desk since he mentioned the western school, pulled out a pair of crumpled, yellowish papers. She passed them across the desk for Koenma to take, and after reviewing them for a few seconds, he realized they were from Hogwarts.

"They asked for an exchange program with Amaterasu's Fighting School?" he asked, a bit taken back.

He wouldn't have thought they would be interested in such a thing... He wasn't a big expert when it came to Hogwarts, but they gave the impression of having very peaceful views on education. The only thing close to a fighting lesson they had given was a dueling club that only lasted one year, and this request had been given more than a decade ago.

"A little after the Dark Lord disappeared," sighed the woman, drawing out a few more papers only to arrange them and put them back in the drawer. "They started to think they would benefit from having a few classes like our own. We'd send them two students so they could check their skill level, and their kids would watch how my students behave towards authority and other students. I rejected the project: never gave an answer. The Dark Lord had just gone away, and I didn't really trust the stories about Harry Potter. So I wasn't about to send my students into Europe to be stared at like freaks. Now that the Dark Lord has officially returned, I'm not any more eager about sending them. But I'm sure your workers wouldn't have a problem with that."

"They're familiar with life-or-death situations," Koenma admitted. "And I'm sure they could stand a bit of staring." Half of his team would be able to avoid such situations easily, anyway.

"I can try to push through the program," she said, fingers crossed over the table.

"Do you think they will accept it?" the ruler asked, frowning slightly.

"No." The answer was flat and sincere. "But I can convince them, I think. If anything, hint a few things. I'm sure many would be willing to send their kids to Asia if that meant keeping them away from the Dark Lord. And surely they're more curious now than ever about our student's abilities... I assume your workers are in top-shape?"

"They're quite strong, yes." He would suggest they were as strong as the school's best students, but he didn't know if Bunko would take it as n insult or a compliment. He also didn't' know the level of the school's best students.

"Alright, then. I'll arrange for a meeting with Hogwart's current Headmaster and talk things through. Should the true nature of your students stay confidential?"

"Yes. I will send you their information this evening, so you can arrange the paperwork as is proper for the students."

The meeting didn't last much longer, and Koenma was very glad to be out of the office. He ended up having to ask the student to guide him back out, but the young man's company was far less uncomfortable, and it was easy to handle his small, admiring glances his way.

* * *

Gotemba city rested west of Tokyo, east of Mount Fuji. Being so close to the highest mountain in Japan, there should be a nice view of the active volcano. Yet it was summer, and several clouds blocked the sight. This didn't really hinder their task, of course, but just knowing the closeness soothed the mind, as they knew they didn't have to travel that far for a place to rest. With Botan busy with a series of tasks given by Koenma, they couldn't rely on portals to go from one place to the other. However, it didn't seem to bother Yuusuke or Kuwabara too much, as this was Japan and not another continent.

The young hours of the morning were quite enjoyable that day, with a fresh breeze dragging away the soggy air that recent rains had brought. With a temperature that was neither too hot nor too cold, Hiei and Kurama were spared of half the usual complains from the rest of the team.

"Why are we climbing Mount Fuji at three in the morning?" Yuusuke managed through a yawn, barely catching himself as the stone under his right foot rolled down and away.

"Because we need to see Masa-san," Kurama informed, giving only half an answer as he pushed some hair out of his face. "And we want to avoid the other climbers." There would surely be some foreign tourists wanting to see the sunrise from Mount Fuji. Luckily, they weren't heading as far as Team Urameshi was.

"Man, this is so annoying," came Kuwabara's own groggy mumble. "Why do we all need to go see this Masa person?"

"Well, we all need wands," Kurama pointed out, pausing at a ledge. He jumped down after spotting Hiei a few feet away, waiting for their two human partners to stagger behind him.

They were following Hiei because he was the one that could pin-point the exact location of the man's seals. Kuwabara should be able to as well, but if they let him lead, they would end up going through the most treacherous road. This area of Mount Fuji wasn't of public access, because the erosion here made rocks unsteady. But Hiei was clever enough to pick the safest spots to step on. The fire demon was being very thoughtful, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"One of those wooden sticks? Why do we need those?"

"Well, Yuusuke, Wizards do not use reiki the way you do. They channel it through wands because it's safer. Despite you and Kuwabara being able to handle sheer energy since you were fourteen years old, it is not common behavior in humans." The redhead kicked an unsteady rock off and watched it roll downwards. Pulling his sleeves back slightly with a flick of his wrist, he looked up and started climbing a completely vertical wall of rock. This area of the mount was oddly shaped, in comparison to the others... they were getting close.

"You handled energy just fine yourself," Yuusuke complained, giving a grunt of distress and glaring up at Hiei, who was already waiting at the top of the stone wall.

"I had more than a thousand years of experience behind me. What's your excuse?"

"I died." Kurama could just hear the amused smirk in his friend's face.

A small cry of surprise made Kurama glance down. Yuusuke had dislodged a stone from the wall by stepping on it, and said stone had hit Kuwabara's head. Shaking his head as the insults started, Kurama reached the top of the wall and took Hiei's offered hand to pull himself up.

"Thank you," Kurama said, dusting his button-up green shirt off with a few pats to his chest.

"Hn."

They had to wait a short while for the other two to make it up, and Kurama took Hiei's place in helping them stand. Luckily, there were no more walls to climb, as they found an old and shaky path not far from there. Obviously, Masa-san thought if someone had bothered to come all the way up here, it would be no use to try and hide any longer. And down this path, sure enough, was a cave. The descending floor inside faintly resembled stairs, and once the light from the entrance started fading, torches lit the walls of the narrow cave.

Behind a veil of disheveled leather-like curtains, a round room awaited. Rough wooden boxes filled the walls, each labeled with an ingredient's name or a type of metal. An oven sat against one of the few spaces of the wall that wasn't covered by such boxes, and next to it a scorching red hammer. The only normal furniture was a stone table and a small chair, upon which an old, scruffy-looking man sat. He watched the intruders, his pale eyes covered slightly by tattered white hair, although not enough to hide the heavy dark bags under his eyes.

"Masanori Fuji?" Hiei demanded, looking at the man in a measuring way.

A coarse cough answered the question, then the man shifted and stood. He limped oddly as he moved towards an unlabeled box and had to use the support of a wide cane. It didn't take much to realize the man didn't have his right foot.

"Koenma said you'd come," he grunted in a raspy tone. "Asking for _wands_. A poor old man like me can't waste his time making those things anymore, much less for _demons_," he almost spat the last, though Kurama had the feeling his anger wasn't towards the species. "Demons require very special alloys. Demon energy sets wands on fire or they just explode, and how can I deal with that? It even melts most metals with enough time, dear me..."

As he continued talking to himself, he finally arrived to the box he wanted, opening it and pulling out a bag imprinted with spirals and dots.

"_Fire_ demons, for Enma's sake..." The man grunted, glaring lightly at Hiei's way. He sat down once more and undid a small knot in the bag, pulling out a thin, long box and pushing it across the table. The group moved over, and Hiei snatched the box before Yuusuke could ask about it.

Taking off the lid and flinging it aside without much care, Hiei pulled out a thin, short, and elegant metallic wand. The metal was very light-colored, like white silver. The handle was of a darker metal, and Hiei noticed it was very warm to the touch.

"Ten and a half inches. Koenma sent the heartstring of a two-headed dragon of the demon world's upper levels." He said this almost proudly, watching the wand Hiei held and seeming to forget his dislike for fire demons. "The alloy? It's a secret I'll keep to myself. Should last you for a few years before it melts."

Hiei grunted and placed the wand away in a pocket of his clothes, stepping away to stand at the entrance. Masanori's attitude came back once the wand was out of sight.

"Nasty little bugger, your wand was," he all but growled at Kurama, who arched his eyebrows and gave an apologetic smile. "What were you thinking, mingling your soul with a human body? A complex mongrel calls for an equally complex wand, took me five days to find a correct alloy. Bastard wand, this is," he grunted, pulling out another box and passing it the same way he did Hiei's.

Kurama picked up the box and drew out a dark metallic wand, waving it softly. He felt his power tugged towards the wand smoothly, and return to his body at his own will. He would have to be careful with this thing. It seemed all too willing to channel his power, and he couldn't' accidentally feed it with the same power he did his rose whip. The twelve and a bit more inches were a bit alien to him, as he was used to a much longer weapon.

"What's the core, Masa-san?" he questioned politely, giving another soft wave, regulating the power better this time, although still not letting it go out as lights or whatever it was wands did when waved.

"I would have asked for one of your hairs, but then the wand's reactions wouldn't be as useful. It would have been a very weak wand: it wouldn't have exploded or melted, but it would be like adding a glass of water to a river. And it would have reacted all the time your power rose, even if you weren't holding it. So I decided to try with other cores, but none of them seemed right. Kitsune hair is too rare and hard to find, no pure magical creatures would have boded well with your demonic energy, and no dark creature of this world can handle more than just a human's energy." Thus the need of a Makai monster for Hiei's wand.

"I ended up using the seed of a rare demon plant. Koenma told me of your weapon preference, so I figured that would do."

"Does that plant give flowers?" Kurama asked, stroking the wand softly, understanding now why it felt familiar.

"Yeah," said the man shortly.

"Thank you a lot, Masa-san," the redhead finished, putting the wand away with a nod and joining Hiei near the entrance.

"Your wands," the man continued, fully ignoring the two demons now and looking at the two humans. There was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, as he pulled out the last two boxes. "were much more simple. But not any less powerful, I assure you. I'm very proud of these beauties," he said, allowing Kuwabara and Yuusuke to come fetch them.

The metal of these wands was light as well. Not as bright as Hiei's, but they didn't look boldly gray.

"Sixteen inches, dragon heartstring," Masa-san said, motioning to Kuwabara's. The human teenager seemed a bit discouraged his wand had a core similar to Hiei's, but he still waved it energetically, calling forth a few shining wisps of white light.

"Whoa!" the guy said, grinning like a maniac and waving it around some more, getting the same effect.

"And nine one quarter, with unicorn hair as core. That one was a bit stubborn, I hope it doesn't complain much to your command," he said.

"Why do we get metal wands, too? I thought the normal ones were meant to be made of wood," Yuusuke said. There was a pout in his face as he watched his wand. Kurama could tell he was moping about having the shortest one.

"Wood is too personal, Yuusuke, and it keeps memories," Kurama cleared. While a wooden wand would have felt better in his hand, metal would give less trouble, should their wands be taken away. "Metal is a bit more distant. And these are perfect. Thank you again, Masa-san."

Masanori seemed to ease his grunt a bit, and nodded to this praise.

"Hey you, come here," he said motioning to Hiei like you would a kid. This obviously angered the demon, but oddly enough, he just grunted and moved over. Masanori pulled out a thick wooden wand of his own. "I can't stand those red eyes," he said, before looking over at Kurama. "Want a way to hide the obviously demonic trait?"

Kurama nodded briefly. He'd been thinking the same thing. As faint as it was a sign, Hiei's red eyes might raise suspicion. Masanori nodded, muttering something about adding that to Koenma's slip, and pointed his wand at a wary Hiei. "_Oculus umbra econtra."  
_

A flash similar to that of a camera went off in front of Hiei's face. The demon shook his head and turned around, blinking his large eyes at Kurama, as if demanding an explanation. Kurama grimaced at the bright blues that stared at him, but nodded anyway.

"It's different... but it'll have to do."

"I think those call more attention than the red ones," Yuusuke commented, peering at the short demon. "Maybe because these look kinder."

That was rewarded by a punch to his arm.

* * *

I'm aware this chapter was rather slow and plagued by OCs. Sorry about that.

"_Amaterasu no Tou Gakkou"_ = Amaterasu's Fighting School.

"_The paperwork for __Gellert__ had been..."_: Gellert Grindelwald.

_Kodomo no hi & Kurama's Letter:_ Amaterasu's Fighting School, like Hogwarts, hands over letters to their possible students to invite them to join the school. The letters for the boys are handed on May 5, Children's Day (Kodomo no hi), also known as Boy's Festival. As extra info, letters for the girls are handed during the third day of March, Doll Festival (Hina Matsuri), also known as Girl's Festival.

"_Kuwabara should have gotten one, too. Surely he denied."_: Kurama and Kuwabara got letters, but Yuusuke and Hiei didn't. Kuwabara was born with his high intuition and the ability of using reiki/magic, he just needed some training. Kurama's weakened youki would have looked like potential reiki/magic to the school. Yuusuke didn't show any magic abilities until after dying, and he was already fourteen by then. Hiei clearly isn't human and didn't even live in Japan at the time, so he doesn't get a letter.

"_Masa-san"_ : I'm trying to avoid using "-chan", "-kun", "-"san", etc in the fic. They are ALREADY talking Japanese, why bother with those suffixes? But the –san can be considered part of this character's name, so bear with me.


	6. Obligatory Detour

_Prior Author Notes: Thanks for Reading. I'm pretty sure I mentioned it somewhere in the notes of the first chapter, but since some people seem a bit troubled (or maybe annoyed) by this, I'll clear things up. This happens ((YYH-wise)) after the Dark Tournament Arc, and before the Dark Chapter Arc. Thus, Yuusuke is human. Sorry if I confused a few people, but Yuusuke being human is part of the fic._

_From this moment on, the results of the OWL exams are subject to change, as well as other HP-universe details._

Harry Potter and the Arc of Death

**Chapter 6.- **_Obligatory Detour / Trivial Necessities_

"Aaaah! That's enough!"

Stacks of books filled Kazuma Kuwabara's modest bedroom, divided in eleven distinctive piles. A specially annoying and lively book had been thrown into the closet by Hiei, where it trashed against everything it could for twenty minutes before settling down and (Kurama hoped) going to sleep. He passed a page of the book in his hands, smoothly ignoring the groans and complains as he continued reading about Herbology. He didn't need to learn about properties of bubotuber pus, but it was useful to know that "bubotuber" was how the wizards called the katatsumuri plant.

The stacks of books were Hogwarts' school materials for all of its classes, from first to fifth year. They had taken the liberty of throwing out Muggle Studies, and a bunch of books by some Lockhart guy, as they didn't' contain useful information for the class of Defense Against Dark Arts. Divination books had been pushed aside by Yuusuke along with Arithmancy, despite Kurama's best efforts to convince him otherwise.

Through the course of the last few weeks, Kurama had gone through nine of the classes, leaving Herbology and Potions for last. He assumed those would be the least troublesome for him. He didn't claim to be able to remember every little detail of the books he'd read (it was too much information), but he grasped the basic knowledge and a passable amount of harder material.

Hiei had gone through years rather than subjects, and he was now finishing the book for fourth year of History of Magic, grumbling under his breath about goblins and weak human wars. Kurama didn't know for sure if Hiei would retain all the information, either. But he had been particularly entertained by the Care of Magical Creatures subject.

Kuwaraba had done an impressive job on studying, and he was still hard at it, his eyebrows furrowed as he mouthed the passages he read. Like Kurama, he seemed to prefer going by topics. He'd gone through five or six so far, but Kurama would soon recommend him to finish reading the basic knowledge of the other subjects rather than finish the Fifth-Year Charms volume. Then again, two of those subjects the male was missing were optional (Arithmancy and Ancient Ruins), so maybe completely dropping them would be adequate.

Now, Yuusuke...

"I don't understand a word of this trash!" he declared, kicking away a Transfiguration book.

Young Eikichi hissed and was forced to jump off his warm corner when said book landed mere inches away from him.

"Well, you should have started with first year," Kurama pointed out, not bothering to take his eyes off the book. He was rather amused by the human's panicky ways to handle a plant so tame as the "Meat Eating Mushroom". Of course, if they had not yet noticed it highly prefered fruit seeds, they very well deserved to get their fingers snapped at.

"I did," Yuusuke said, stretching and laying down on the scarce unoccupied ground of Kuwabara's room.

The fox did recall seeing Yuusuke going through the first volumes of all classes absently, but after that, he hadn't given the tiniest hint of following an order. He had finished reading, maybe, four of the classes.

"You could stop sleeping in classes and use that time to study," a stern but amused voice came from the open door.

Shizuru Kuwabara walked into the room with drinks set upon an improvised tray. She placed them on Kuwabara's desk and took a few steps back, as if appreciating the view. It was not often she saw such an odd study group, and it was a bit hard to swallow such image after seeing them battle for their lives at the Dark Tournament.

"So you all really are going, then? I thought it was some sort of joke," she commented, pulling out a small, square box from her pocket and drawing out a cigarette. "Personal Bodyguards of some celebrity in Europe, ah?"

"_Secret_ Personal Bodyguards," Yuusuke grunted, rolling over and sitting up to fetch one of the glasses. The dark, transparent liquid inside was iced tea. "I mean, we saw the files, but most of it is not of public knowledge, and he still gets loads of attention… Is that Potter so awesome?"

"Probably not," Kurama said, reaching for a glass of tea and finally looking up from his reading. "But he did save the wizarding community from a very feared enemy." He felt rather tired—he had studied during his free periods at Meiou, during the afternoons, and until late at night. Somehow he'd managed to hide the books when around his mother, who was very happy he had been "picked for a special transfer program with a prestigious school in Europe", even if she was troubled by him being so far from her.

"Hopefully he won't be a stuck-up, spoiled brat," Shizuru continued, a trail of smoke leaving the corner of her lips. "I hear famous people are annoying, specially when they're kids."

"We can't do anything about that. We go and protect him until Black shows up, and that's it," Hiei said, tossing aside the book of History and reaching out for Astronomy.

"Are you really reading everything?" Shizuru asked, giving a skeptic look at the messy bundle of books beside Hiei.

"Well, the most important, at least," Kurama said with a small nod. "They are not expecting us to know anything regarding the classes, but it would be ideal if we could keep up with the lessons as to be closer to Mr. Potter."

"Yes, because there's no better way to create friendship bonds than whining about homework together."

* * *

Hustle and bustle in the Burrow was something Harry was already used to. This year, the visit to Diagon Alley was welcomed with an unusual amount of eagerness mingled with anxiety. During vacations, they hadn't been allowed to go too far from the Burrow, and even when they went down to the Quidditch pitch, Harry could feel Mrs. Weasley's occasional anxious looks from a window of the second floor.

Harry and Ron stood near the entrance of the Burrow, ready to leave as soon as the Ministry's vehicles arrived. Molly was going through everything one last time: keys for the vault, the number of people going to Diagon Alley, the groups they would be forming, the route they would be taking. The things they normally discussed once they were at Diagon Alley, were now being checked thrice before leaving. With Voldemort free and roaming about, Harry could hardly blame her for being wary, but this full-blown terror was getting on his nerves.

Ron seemed to be thinking the same, and he commented something along those lines as Hermione came to join them, pushing some of her bushy hair off her face and tucking her wallet into her pocket.

"Well, it's only logic," the girl said defensively, using a hushed tone, watching Molly Weasley do a last general-check with her husband. "Everyone knows that You-Know-Who is back now, so everyone is expecting their loved ones to die. They expect disaster and attacks at Muggle-borns, like last time, but there has been none of that so far. Everyone's on edge, and that's not necessarily a bad thing. All the Wizarding community is being very careful."

"Ah," was Harry's smart answer.

They were all ushered out of the front door, a task that ensured several grunts as each person stepped on another's foot. Harry got into the first of the Ministry's cars, followed by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Mr. And Mrs. Weasley took the front passenger seat, next to the Auror driving the car; the later had a good ability at picking muggle clothing, wearing a black polo shirt and light-colored trousers. Ron stretched out in the spacious car, before the faint sound of a motor started.

Seeing the scenery flash by, Harry couldn't help but think back on Hermione's words. He had been in the Burrow for a few weeks now, and it was easier to find out if something had gone bad in the wizarding community (a disappearance, someone dead). Not only did they have the Daily Prophet, but Mr. Weasley, being in the Ministry with a new, better job, could tell them if he had heard anything. Granted, he wasn't nearly as happy as when he worked with Muggle objects, and he came home a bit later, but Mrs. Weasley seemed very proud of her husband. And other than Harry's incident with the Death Eaters -- which had made it to the Prophet's first page, though luckily they hadn't taken any photos of Privet Drive --, there had been no obvious movements of Death Eaters. The lack of pain in Harry's forehead was not any more reassuring than that.

The trip to Charring Cross Road was shorter than usual, with streets and whole cities jumping in and out behind the window, and Harry stepped off after his two best friends, raising his gaze to the grungy building that was the Leaky Cauldron. And as soon as they went inside, they noticed the atmosphere had changed slightly. It was not as full as it usually was on this time of year (the only time Harry could actually judge it by), and the air had a stagnant atmosphere.

And not only did the Leaky Cauldron seem a bit empty. Diagon Alley, normally bubbling with life during these few days before the beginning of Term, seemed rather gloomy. People moved in groups everywhere, not daring to go by themselves anywhere. That might not be a bad thing, though.

The less people around, the hastier their shopping would be.

* * *

The sun wasn't even out yet, but four apparently-normal teenagers were wide awake and arguing stridently as they followed two wizards down the road, towards a construction site. The two adults carried nothing noticeable under their dark colored long cloaks. All of the teenagers, on the other hand, had bags slung over their shoulders, some holding two or even three. One of the teenagers pulled one bag around his shoulder, nudging it over to fish for something inside it. He extracted a smaller bag of black velvet.

"Here they are," the teen of bright green eyes said, shaking the bag lightly. "Botan brought them just yesterday."

"What are 'they', though?" Yuusuke asked, looking ahead at the two adults suspiciously and without hiding his contempt for the wizarding cloaks that yes, he would have to wear at Hogwarts. "Potions? Bugs you push into your ears? Instructions for a ritual?"

"Badges," Kurama answered, after taking a look inside. "The magic community is less magical than one might expect. Besides, these were provided by Amaterasu's Fighting School." He reached inside, and pulled out one of the objects. In the dark, it was hard to notice what color the metal was, but it was easy to tell it had the shape of a tear, and Kurama could read "Amaterasu" just by running his thumb over the kanji engraved on it.

"Well?" Yuusuke asked eagerly.

Kurama turned his eyes over to the pair walking a few feet in front of them. Holding the badge in his hand, their speech suddenly became as clear as if they were talking Japanese, though he could noticeably tell the difference between the two languages.

"...So Scrimgeour is going to be the new Minister?" the shorter of the figures, with a heart-shaped face and long black hair, asked the man next to her.

"It's not official yet," the man corrected. He was tall, bald, and with dark skin, with a stern but very comforting air around him. "But he's the safest bet, once Cornelius is thrown out of the post," he continued.

"Aww, bummer," the woman said, and Kurama watched as her hair went from that pitch black tone to a more cheerful magenta color. "I thought you would be the next Minister, Shacklebolt!" Ah, so THAT was the man's name. Kurama hadn't caught it right the first time.

The tall, dark man gave a healthy but fairly quiet laugh. It was not clear whether they used that tone because of the very late (or very young) hour of the day, or for the teenagers following them. It didn't matter, anyway, as Kurama could hear them clearly, and that clarity was proof enough that the translators worked. At least, they translated what they heard.

Now, how about what they said?

"Excuse me," he called, two pairs of eyes turning towards the group. "Where will we be arriving, after taking this portkey thing?" he continued, to make sure it was not a coincidence.

"Oh, at a place called the Leaky Cauldron," the woman explained with a cheerful smile. Kurama returned the gesture and thanked her, before turning back to a rather surprised Yuusuke. He tossed the badge back into the bag, keeping them at hand.

"They work," Kurama said simply. "And I'm not giving you one unless you need it," he continued. Yuusuke didn't waste any time complaining about it. It was no puzzle to understand that, if given the small thing now, it wouldn't be long before he lost it. Same with Kuwabara. Hiei surely would appreciate secrecy over hearing what a couple of wizard cops had to say. As far as Kurama knew, talking Japanese might be impossible with the badges on.

Kurama flung the bag to Hiei, trusting him to keep the objects safe and knowing he wouldn't be bothered by the extra weight: the short demon was the only one with a single duffel bag over his shoulder. Hiei didn't own too many clothes, and the only human clothing he carried in his bag had been handed down by Kurama or Yuusuke. A bit oversized, even if they had been from previous years, but they would do. Besides, Hiei didn't like to be in public, so he could easily put on his usual clothing and stay out of sight.

They turned the corner, going past the construction's orange plastic walls, and into the debris that was scattered across the ground. Even when the building was being worked on every morning, the extra mess of cans, boots, and safety hats was conceivably a temporary set-up by the wizards. The bathing plastic hat so casually laying around was a good hint: it was widely known by demons that "pure" wizards could rarely blend into the human world. Even the most low-ranked demons knew how to dress in human crowds (Hiei just didn't need to: he was too fast for humans to get a second glance, if they had even gotten a first).

The woman started looking around, but it was her partner who managed to locate the Portkey. This one was shaped as an unusually large and archaic hammer, that Kurama did not think was used by humans anymore.

They gathered around the hammer, two persons in the small group looking frazzled and frustrated. Yuusuke did not seem all too happy about being dragged out of his bed in the middle of the night to come see a hammer, and Hiei didn't like the thought of attending this mission altogether. They were also the two of the group who had not used a Portkey yet. So it was rather understandable that they would give the hammer dirty looks.

With a palm holding the hammer, five pairs of fingers gripped around it, six people standing suspiciously in the middle of a construction ground.

"It won't be nice," Kurama warned, tightening his arm around the bag on his shoulder and his hand on the second bag, much like Kuwabara. He saw Yuusuke mimic them from the corner of his eye, a mere split second before the hook-like tug made itself known in their navel.

It was only a moment before they feet touched ground once more, but it would be enough to unsettle anyone's stomach.

Then, the most noticeable thing once they landed was that in England, it was not the middle of the night. Kurama narrowed his eyes briefly to the change of illumination, which ached despite them being inside what seemed to be a tiny tavern, with few clean windows. There were various tables spread around, empty mugs of coffee and platters with remains of mid-day meals suggesting the place to be a restaurant of sorts. The empty platters would move towards a door on the far right on their own accord, and a wet mop danced across the tables. Over the bar, an old and grubby-looking old man looked at them, giving a grin that allowed a clear sight of his toothless mouth.

He became aware of two walls near him, and looked around to see they had appeared right on the emptiest corner of the room. Yuusuke and Kuwabara were groaning loudly on the ground, the bags spread around them.

Hiei cursed humans and their idiotic versions of portals, glaring intently at the hammer on Shacklebolt's hand as he fixed the white cloth around his head. The hurricane-like transport was far too unpleasant, and Kurama did not think they would get used to it any time soon. The wizards would eventually reach the level of perfection a portal had. Or, well, Kurama sure hoped so.

The man by the bar started making their way over them, and the female Auror went to greet him. The chat they had was lengthy enough for the team to straighten themselves and pull the bags over their shoulders, and then the young adult came back with a pair of keys.

"_This way_," she said. Easy-to-understand language, accompanied by a motion towards a pair of stairs. So this was an inn, then.

One after the other, they climbed the stairs, which creaked softly beneath them. The woman was guiding up front, while Shacklebolt remained by the landing of the ground floor. To the top of the stairs and down a narrow, uneven hallway, all the way to the back, two doors sat across from each other, the numbers one and three craved on the wood as elegantly as possible. Which wasn't saying much.

Tonks unlocked both rooms with a key she later handed to Kuwabara, a clear signal of where they would be staying until the term began.

While Tonks started lecturing Kuwabara, a speech Kurama couldn't quite catch word-by-word, the redhead moved towards the door on the right, entering the room.

"Dusty... but it will do," he decided, carefully walking around a wooden perch and setting his bags on one of the two beds crammed inside the room. It was obvious these rooms were meant to be single, but at least they had not tried to push them all in one room of these proportions. Kurama did not think this shady building would endure the chaos. He heard the door hinge's whine behind him, and didn't need to turn his head to know who the light cat-steps belonged to. "I take it this is the pub you were talking about."

A grunt.

Kurama took a glance over his shoulder, to see Hiei inspecting a full-body mirror warily.

Right before his eyes, the reflection's frown deepened and an expression crooked his lips. Now, although Kurama could only see Hiei's back, he knew the fire demon would never do such an effeminate-looking pout.

"Would it kill you to smile a little, sweetie?" came the winded but otherwise perfect Japanese, so similar to Hiei's voice, straight from the mirror.

The fire demon growled and wordlessly turned the mirror around to face the wall. A glare was directed at Kurama, as his hitched breathing had given away his desire to just chuckle at the sight.

"I hate this place," Hiei stated, flinging his bag to the spare bed.

"It's only for a day, Hiei," Kurama reminded him, though he was sure the idea of getting out of here wasn't exciting, either. He thought Hiei would prefer to stay in this wizard inn for a year instead of traveling to a human magical school.

* * *

By the time they came out of Gringotts, half of their morning had just disappeared. The bank had not been crowded, but the security had been increased. The goblins seemed to think Death Eaters could try to steal from them by disguising themselves, or even casting _Imperius_ on the rest of the bank users. Thus, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys had gone through several verification spells, one of which included a powder being blown over your head, and which made your forehead tickle and glower for about five seconds.

And then, Harry could swear the length of the ride down to the vaults had stretched out since his last visit. Add that to the fact that Mrs. Weasley wanted them all to go together to each vault, and more than a few hours were spent inside one of the safest places of England, other than Hogwarts.

Thankfully, the whole ordeal was over, and now they could walk freely down the alley, their pockets or bags cheerfully jingling with coins.

And although Mrs. Weasley had been quite against it, the small group had split in two for a more hasty shopping, as had been originally planned. And that was how Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gone off to buy their books and other school supplies while Mrs. and Mr. Weasley went to buy robes with Ginny. The twins were here already: they had left the night before, but that did not mean the trio was wandering around by themselves. So, to prevent them from being attacked by Death Eaters hiding in the dark corners between the stores, Rubeus Hagrid had been appointed for the task.

"I can't believe we're taking Potions this year," Ron said, apparently stuck between unbelief, annoyance, and happiness.

For unknown reasons, Snape had lowered his expectations for the OWL students (Harry suspected Dumbledore had had something to do with it). Surprisingly enough, both Harry and Ron had made it in with equally dazzling "Exceeds Expectations". Harry himself did not know what to think of it, but he sure was thankful for being able to continue on his path to being an Auror. He did not think he would be much better at anything else in the magic world.

"Professor Snape isn't going to be happy," Hermione pointed out, and neither boy by her side was able to smile.

While the idea of Snape being miserable was appealing, they knew all too well how he took out his anger on the students. At least Neville would be safe: Harry did not think he would want to continue with the class, even if he had reached the required note.

"Talking about Professors," Harry's attention diverted for a moment, towards the window of the Quidditch shop eagerly, "who do you think will teach Defense this year?" Mr. Weasley had said just a few days ago that the post had not yet been filled.

"As long as it's not another Umbridge," groaned Ron, shifting the weight of his new second-hand cauldron (the old one had the bottom so thin it would have gotten a hole in the first class) and looking thoughtfully towards Hagrid.

But the man seemed all too interested in the pet shop they had just walked by, which had an all-too-vicious looking furry creature at the front. Hagrid's gaze was that of a kid longing for a puppy. The trio decided to take a small break, setting their things down, just to let the large man wander a bit closer to ask about the beast. It was the least they could do. They had not yet told Hagrid that none of them would be taking his class this year.

Before they could continue wondering about their new teacher, though, a disturbance popped up at the other side of the alley. Harry's eyes wandered back to the front of the Quidditch shop, though he wasn't focusing on the displays now.

There, in front of the wide window, a group of teenagers and a middle-aged woman stood. By itself, the scene wouldn't be anything peculiar: it was the clamorous laugh coming from one of the teenagers, which was breaking the subdued curse over the street. The amusement did not seem to be shared by the rest of the group, but the amused teenager did not seem able to restrain himself. Harry noticed that the teenagers were wearing muggle clothing, even when the woman had ministry robes on her.

"Anyway..." Ron coughed, looking over at Hagrid, who was deep in thought as he talked to the pet store's clerk. The redhead immediately grimaced, "He's not buying that thing, is he?"

"I think he will," Hermione said, a frown of concern on her own expression.

"How bad can it be?" The creature didn't look too dangerous. No visible claws, or overly long fangs, or (_"Ano kare!") _a tail with spikes on the end... Just a fluffy ball. A very fierce-looking fluffy ball.

Harry felt soft pats on his shoulder, and turned to see an unfamiliar face. This was the same person that had been laughing at the Quidditch shop just a moment ago, he realized, and he was sporting a broad grin that looked most daring.

"_Yoroshiku onegaishimasu!" _The teenager thrust his hand forward, the motion coming out awkward. _"Urameshi Yuusuke."_

Hermione looked warily at the male, her lips pursed slightly. The guy in front of them did not seem to have hostile intentions, but his clothes and stance just yelled "arrogant troublemaker". Harry could figure just how troublesome these sort of attitudes were for prefects, so perhaps Hermione's impression of the stranger was even more biased. Luckily, neither of them had to reply or shake hands with the guy, as the rest of his group had caught up with him. One of the taller teenagers, of long hair and slightly feminine features, reached out to grasp the first male's shoulder.

"_Yuusuke,"_ was all Harry could hear, for the rest was too fast-paced, and a few moments later, the teenager's green eyes went over to him. After only a moment of hesitation, the guy gave a shallow bow, smiling politely at the three students. _"Subarashi meiyo atteimasu."_

"_Hn. Inshoutekijanai to omoimasu."_

It took Harry a moment to realize that the deep voice had come from the shortest figure in the group, who he had mistaken for a kid. But well, could you blame him? The guy was just a little over four feet tall!

"Ehm," Harry said, interrupting what seemed to be a quarrel among the foreign teenagers (Asiatic, judging by their features). The woman with Ministry robes seemed to be having her own problems, trying to herd the little group away. But none of the guys were paying attention to her, and they didn't even seem to speak English. The long-haired guy seemed to catch the uncomfortable look Harry was giving his friends, because at the next moment, the Asian was talking to them again, in a more appealing tone.

"_A~, Gomennasai, Chottomatte..."_ he said, as he turned to the shortest male and opened his palm in a requesting motion.

A glare from the dark guy, a grunt, and then a small metallic object was dumped on his taller friend's hand. The redhead turned back to Harry's group while grasping it.

"Is this better?"

Ron's nose scrunched, and Harry blinked at the sudden change. The male's English was perfect and without the faintest hint of an accent. Hermione nodded knowingly next to them, and Harry had to guess this was normal in some odd way.

"I guess," Harry said with a nod and a cheap shot at a smile, shaking the redhead's hand. He saw more metallic objects being handed around out of the corner of his eye.

"…should have given us these since we got here!" The troublesome-looking male sounded quite upset, but a grin took over his features as he looked back at Harry. "So, you're Potter, right? The big hero?" Harry could feel his ears burning. Did they know him in the East, too?

"Huh... Yeah," he muttered, shoulders squaring slightly.

"Mildred told us a bit about you." The one talking now was quite tall when compared to the rest of his partners, and he had an odd hairdo and a friendly air about him. "Said you survived some nasty curse."

"But we do not mean to pry," the other redhead said respectfully. "We consider ourselves lucky to be able to study along such talented wizards," he said, nodding to the group in general. They were clearly assuming (correctly, Harry would assure) that Hermione and Ron were as skilled as him. Harry could almost see Ron's ears turn red, even though the guy was standing behind him.

"Study?" Hermione inquired, satisfaction well-hidden under her tone of curiosity.

"They are transfers from a school in Japan," the woman of the group said, taking a step forward. "I'm Mildred Acacia, I work as an Auror for the Ministry," she greeted, offering a brief smile. "They should be getting their school materials..."

"We haven't even introduced ourselves!" came the loud whine. The black-haired teenager was quickly caught in a headlock by the tallest of the group.

"Don't talk to her like that, Urameshi!" the male demanded, and continued with his claims even when the upper hand of the struggle was easily stolen from him.

"But we are running out of time, aren't we?" the non-fighting redhead said thoughtfully. "Well, then. I sure hope we'll be able to talk some more at this Hogwarts school. Have a nice day."

And so they left, with twice as much noise as they had caused when they came. Or maybe it was just that they could understand the earsplitting "you big oaf"s and "shut up, Urameshi!"s down the road.

"Transfers from Japan?" Ron echoed. "How come Dad doesn't know of them?"

"Maybe he does," Hermione mused. "Hogwarts has always had transfer programs." Like in their fourth year. It had been pretty confidential back then, too.

"It doesn't seem right to let them transfer at a time like this," said Harry, who was frowning lightly at the air in front of him. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore was planning something? He had not seen much of the headmaster through the summer, after their brief meeting at the Burrow. But somehow, Harry highly doubted the man was ignoring him again.

"Hoped" would be a better word, actually.

"We're going to have very interesting classes this year, we are!" Hagrid's booming voice brought them back to reality. For the rest of their shopping trip, all three of them did their best not to make eye contact with the man, exchanging guilty looks whenever the large man wasn't looking their way.

* * *

If Yuusuke had thought the Wizards to be ridiculous after hearing that they flew on brooms, there was only one store in the whole Alley that could change his mind. And with Hiei, Kurama, and Mildred gone to get books, there was no one to stop him and Kuwabara from walking into said shop.

Most of the customers inside were simple kids, so Yuusuke could easily see the merchandise over their heads. When an object proved far too indistinguishable behind a few dozen hands, he just had to use a bit of force to shove them away.

"_Skiving Snackbox?_" he read out loud, picking up a small box and reading the backside. The translation charms seemed to work very nicely even when placed in the pocket, and the writing was as clear as if it were kanji. He felt a grin tug at his lips at the description of the product. He considered it pocketing it, but wound up just setting it back on the shelf, going through the following section of prank objects. Candies that could get you out of class thanks to a fake sickness sounded dandy, but it was easier to just skip.

He paused at the sight of a bunch of girls giggling over a corner of the store, and had to tip-toe slightly to look over their heads. He got a glimpse of a _"Guaranteed Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher"_, and his expression fell slightly.

Perhaps he should send Keiko some presents? She had not been too happy about him leaving on this sort of mission, and he felt a bit guilty about the whole thing. Not that he would ever admit it.

A shrilling animal cry made him turn a glare on his best friend.

"Geeze, Kuwabara, I told you not to bring that thing in!"

"I can't just leave her outside! She would be lonely!"

Apparently, another of the wizards' odd customs was to send letters by owl. So, to follow the tradition, Kuwabara's mom (Yuusuke didn't know many details about that) had taken them to some Owl Emporium to pick one out. As the only animal-lover of the team, Kuwabara had been allowed to pick the bird. He hadn't been able to bring Eikichi to London, so maybe this would make him feel better. Consequently, they now owned a barn owl of light feathers and a narrow face.

Kuwabara had been daring enough to suggest her name to be Shiziru. But what were the odds of the guy's sister finding out? No one had complained, and Mildred had looked awkwardly amused.

"I think she'd be happier outside," Yuusuke argued. It was impossible to tell if Shizuru was more annoyed by the kids, or the kids of her shrieks. Either way, Yuusuke soon noticed the bird was an advantage: people would go out of their way to get away from the lousy bird.

Now he didn't have to stumble and shove his way to the walls and the merchandise. He paused at a smaller section of the store, raising his eyebrows. Those didn't look special.

Yuusuke picked up a deck of cards, running his fingers over the back and the front. They had two W's elegantly placed on the back, but the front images were that of an ordinary deck. He glanced over at a small slip of paper set upon the table, labeling the objects as "Muggle Magic Tricks".

"I see you're interested in our newest addition to the store, sir," a confident voice called, making him turn his head towards a redhead covered with freckles, dressed in a brightly-colored uniform of the same type he'd seen on the person at the cash register. "These are non-magic objects, but these muggle magic-tricks are quite interesting and require much skill."

"Eh? You mean these aren't magic or anything?" Yuusuke repeated, looking back at the cards and examining them more closely. Indeed, there didn't seem to be anything weird about them.

"Nope, sir, but muggle tricks are quite amusing. Would you be interested in a demonstration? Though I'm not too good at it yet..."

"Demonstration? I grew up with these!" Yuusuke interrupted, giving a devilish grin that could easily match the clerk's. He started shuffling quickly through the cards, ignoring Kuwabara as he peered over his shoulder.

"Cheating in poker is not magic, Urameshi!"

"I didn't cheat, you're just horrid at poker," Yuusuke snapped, spreading the cards while face-down. "Pick one," he told the redhead. The man didn't hesitate and picked one near the middle. "Don't tell me which it is, just put it back in," he instructed.

"That's an old one," Kuwabara accused.

While these kind of things were not what an agitator needed to know, Yuusuke had had his own share of nice childhood experiences. These little tricks were things Keiko's father would teach them while they sat at the ramen store. It had been a few years since he'd tried one, but you wouldn't notice by the way he shuffled the cards again. He pulled out a card, and flipped it around: three of spades.

A full hearted laugh erupted from the wizard in front of him. "That's my card, alright. It's the first time I see the full trick. You know more?"

"Loads," Yuusuke said with a nod, offering the cards back. "But I'm a bit rusty."

His hand was pushed back. "Well, then, take this one and get back in shape. You can show us some more tricks next time you come around." And with the magic pranks and fireworks in the store, Yuusuke was sure to come back. "Say they were a gift of Fred Weasley at the register." Then his head snapped towards a little kid trying to reach a high box of a shelf, and he headed over.

"So you get free stuff for pulling off a simple trick?" Kuwabara asked as they made their way out, Shizuru calming down once they were out of the crowded store. "That Weasley guy sure is odd."

"Yeah. Hey, isn't this place called Weasley-something-or-another?"

"Eh? Oh, yeah. Maybe he owns the place!"

Yuusuke shrugged his shoulders, placing the deck in his pocket.

* * *

"This place stinks."

Boxes and bottles of ingredients were indiscriminately arranged through the store, and among those were also other objects. So far, Kurama had seen an ogre's horn, feathers labeled as a _hipogriff's_, half of a beak, the stings of very large bugs, ropes with an impregnable seal on them, and an oddly shaped root. None of these were on the material list for Hogwart's sixth year, but those were the ones that mildly caught the fox's attention. He blew some dust off a large bottle, and still had to squint his eyes lightly to see a fetus-like thing floating inside a sickly brown liquid.

"You can wait outside," he reminded his partner, who had carefully picked a perch atop a sturdy wooden chest. The clerk was too distracted to care about it.

"Hn. Are we done with shopping?" The last word was spat with such venom that Kurama just had to snicker.

"Almost. We only need two pairs of wooden chests for the school, and we're all set. I just want to take a look around." You never knew when a human could stumble with a potentially powerful item that they would tag as worthless. There had been no luck with rare scripts at the book store, but maybe the apothecary would have rarer objects. Hiei already had the bags with the necessary ingredients for potions. Even though Kurama was sure that at least one of them would not be able to keep up with that class, they had still bought four sets.

He pushed a pair of boxes aside and knelt down to examine a smaller one hidden behind those. He opened it, and found only several fangs. They seemed feline, and judging by the size, they belonged to a large cat. He placed them aside and stood up to keep rummaging through the dusty corner of the store.

"It seems a bit odd that the wizards would send an important Auror to get us," he said out of the blue, while carefully pushing the boxes back in place. There were a few necklaces with precious stones hanging from a nail in the wall, and he moved on towards those. "He was expected to be the next Minister." He would have thought it a joke, had he not heard the conversation himself. The man called Shacklebolt was also powerful: you knew just by looking at him.

"They must be more desperate than we thought." Hiei said, though not carelessly.

"Maybe they think we're dangerous."

"Or in danger." It seemed more plausible, despite the fire apparition's mocking tone. Or else they wouldn't let them wander the same street as Harry Potter. Then again, that could be just because Kuwabara was the son of an Auror. That as well could be a reason for special treatment: they were just getting it because they were with Kuwabara.

"Who knows."

He was about to give up on the necklaces when he caught a glimpse of white. He tugged the thin black rope forward, eyes set on the jewel hanging from the end. The stone was clear, but the inside had needle-like inclusions of a much darker stone inside. He rubbed the object with his thumb briefly, before shaking his head. He didn't really need it. As if he would be dumb enough to allow himself to fall pray of a ritual.

"Seems there's nothing interesting here," he said, giving a disappointed sigh.

"Hn. Can we head back now?"

"As soon as we pay for this, yes. We should meet with the others at the Inn."

They could use some sleep. Tomorrow by this hour, they would be on their way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

* * *

Author Notes:

_Hiei's height:_ Fairly canon. There's an episode in which Hiei's height (without his hair) is said to be 4'10'', about 147 cm.

"_Hogwarts has always had transfer programs."_ : I imagine this can be true. We can consider the Three-Wizard Tournament as a sort of transfer event, and with those (and more, unknown) magic schools, for sure the wizards wouldn't miss the chance to send their kids overseas/to the other side of the continent for them to see other magical environments.

Translations (I got help here, as I don't know Japanese):

_Ano kare!_ = That's him (over there)!

_Yoroshiku onegaishimasu_ = It is an honor to meet you and please do not forget me

_Subarashi meiyo atteimasu_ = It is a great honor to meet you

_Inshoutekijanai to omoimasu_ = Not impressive, I think

_A~, Gomennasai. Chottomatte..._ = Oh, I'm sorry. Wait just a moment...

I don't think I'm going to use more of Japanese -- I can't be sure of the correctness of the translations.


	7. Integrated

Prior Author Notes: Thanks for Reading.

Harry Potter and the Arc of Death

**Chapter 7.- **_Integrated-_

September first.

Muggles once more showed their lack of taste and order, by chaotically moving around the train station, jogging with bags over their shoulders or trying to use a single cart to haul too many suitcases. The thick scent of smoke was not dulled by charms, and there was some annoying muggle officer shouting something at the people walking by. This was only the third time Draco used this entrance to the Platform nine and three quarters, and he was hating it as much as the last two times.

But with Lucius Malfoy being taken away under the charges of being a Death Eater, there were not many strings that the rest of the Malfoy family could pull. This meant no side-along apparition to the platform, or other ways to travel that could not be used without contacts in the Ministry.

A plump muggle woman bumped against him, and Draco was stuck between moving away in disgust and shoving her out of the way for her lack of manners. He couldn't do either, though, as he was stuck pushing a cart around the station. Muggles "might not react smartly if they see house elf pushing your luggage", Narcissa had said. Since her husband was sent away, Draco's mother had lost a bit of her shine. She was still beautiful, yes, but she seemed... how to say it... humble. Depressed was a better adjective, but the former was what came to Draco's mind, even if it was a bit insulting for their family. Since when were Malfoys humble without purpose?

Draco pushed his cart through the well-known barrier, and was most relieved to part from the dingy muggle world.

The area was unusually packed, as they had arrived merely thirty minutes before its departure. Again, because they couldn't ask their associates for help. They normally were here as early as an hour and a few minutes, and Draco would be of the firsts to pick his compartment. The blonde bid farewell to his mother briefly, and pushed his way to the train. It was on one of the last compartments of the first cart, where he found his Slytherin classmates.

"Draco! So good to see you," came Pansy Parkinson's upbeat greeting.

The teenager gave a simple nod, magnificent as only he could manage, and sat down by the door of the compartment, on Pansy's side. He could have picked the opposite seat to avoid her annoying clinging, but that would mean being pushed into the wall and by Crabbe and Goyle's joined masses.

"So, how was your summer, Draco?" asked Daphne, sitting on Pansy's other side.

"None of your business, Greengrass," Draco snapped, and his dark-haired girl friend quickly took the opportunity to start ranting about her own vacation.

Draco looked out of the compartment, surveying the new students that walked by and giving either nods or flat glares to students of higher years. And even if it wasn't noticeable, his mind was completely elsewhere.

A few days after summer break started, a large group of Death Eaters had escaped the Ministry during their Trials. Nearly all who had been captured at the Ministry Battle earlier this year: a nasty period on Cornelius Fudge's time as Minister. The man had been sacked less than a week afterwards. Now, with Rufus Scrimgeour as the new Minister, things were starting to change. One of his immediate goals was to recapture the fugitives, and to ensure they would have nowhere to escape to, the man had a few aurors keeping a watchful eye on their families. Lucius Malfoy was one of the escapees, which meant that a hard-faced auror would come to the Malfoy Manor from time to time, to ensure they were not hiding him. The whole situation was very degrading.

Loud footsteps (people running inside the train) made him raise his eyes to the corridor, in time to see a pair of Asiatic teenagers tramping carelessly down the hall, their school chests hauled over their shoulders. Not too far behind, advancing at a calmer pace, came two more guys.

Draco allowed himself a disapproving sneer at the pair. The first year seemed to have an attitude, and the other one resembled a Weasley, with that horrid red hair.

His expression became more solid and disgusted when said redhead looked his way, and he felt a small chill at the expression in those green eyes. He only straightened his back and lifted his chin, though, not one to shrink under scrutinizing stares.

He mistook the foreigner's sour smirk for a mortified grimace, and turned away from the window with a smirk of his own, immensely pleased at his speechless victory.

"Who were those guys?" Greengrass asked from her seat next to the window.

"Exchange students," Pansy filled in, a scowl in her face as she protectively - or perhaps possessively - slid her arms around Draco's. "From Japan. You know Bernard Bryson, that lousy second-year? He is not coming this year because his parents arranged it for him to be in the exchange program. They sent invitation letters to the best of each House, the ones with the best records, just in the middle of vacations."

Draco had not heard anything about it.

"I got one," Pansy stated proudly, tugging Draco's arm. "Surely you got one too, hm, Draco?" The blonde nodded, even when he had not gotten anything. There was just no way the Ministry was going to let him out of the country, let alone the continent, until they caught Lucius. But that was one of the things his friends did not need to know. "Yes, but the offer was not too appealing – I hear they don't even have Houses in this school, and I'm not sharing a dormitory with a muggle-born. And just from looking at those four, I can tell the place has got to be some sort of freak show..."

Draco tuned out once again, as Parkinson had perceptibly run out of reliable material about the topic. Instead, he allowed himself to think of more important matters, just as the train started moving, steadily gaining speed as it made out of the station.

Like the letter he had received this summer.

Despite the Ministry's best efforts to avoid contact between them, Draco had acquired correspondence from his father. His hand clenched into a fist, and a cold smirk tugged at his lips just by recalling the content word-by-word.

By the end of the year, Harry Potter would suffer the consequences of messing with a Malfoy.

* * *

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny panted lightly as they climbed onto the train, turning around just in time to wave at Mr. And Mrs. Weasley before the train started moving.

Fred and George had accidentally left one of their undeveloped prank candies at the Burrow on their stay over vacations, and Ginny had found it under the kitchen table just this morning, before leaving to King Cross. She knew better than to eat a candy with **W&W** on the envelope, but the problem was that it had exploded in her hand. A yellowish dust covered her hand and forearm, and Mr. Weasley had to call the twins through the Floo system to know how to revert the harmless but rather gross greenish goop dripping from the girl's nails.

Apparently, the candy was supposed to painlessly make the skin turn green and swell (a joke that no one in the Weasley family could understand, and Harry was not sure if he did, either), but so far they had had no luck.

"Well, we're going to the prefects' compartment," Hermione said once she caught her breath, giving Harry and apologetic look. "We'll be back right after the meeting."

"Sure," Harry said with a small shrug. He had known they would have to go, even if Ron seemed completely against the idea.

"See you later, mate," Ron sighed, pulling his luggage languidly behind Hermione.

Harry held back a groan as he watched them go. He looked back at Ginny, motioning to the corridor. "Wanna go look for a compartment?" he asked, although Ginny's apologetic expression had already given him an answer.

"I promised Dean I'd meet with him. I'll see you at school, though," she said, shrugging her shoulders in a guilty way before leaving.

The groan he had drowned made itself known one she went far enough. It was not that her dating Dean Thomas bothered him horribly (a fellow Gryffindor of good intentions was hardly a bad choice, despite Ron's view on the matter), but he really could use the company.

"Let's go, Hedwig," he told the sleeping owl in a low tone, walking off as the train started to pick up speed.

He became horribly aware of himself as he advanced, and he grew tired of peering into compartments only to notice the people inside were looking at him intently. Whispering behind their hands, or flat-out pointing as he went by. Of course, after summer break, it was no wonder they did... The whole ordeal in the Ministry was now public knowledge, and the attack at Little Whinging made the Dark Lord's target clearer and clearer to the wizarding community. Someone in the Daily Prophet had been so bold as to call him the "Chosen One". An embarrassing and very silly title, but one Harry could do little against. He HAD been dragging the "Boy-Who-Lived" label before he even knew he owned it, after all. Hopefully this new one wouldn't last longer than a decade.

"If I'm still alive by then," he muttered grimly to himself, completely missing the sight of the Slytherins in his year as he crossed their compartment. As no insults, sneering, or snickers followed as he continued walking, he didn't give a single glance back. The occupants seemed far too absorbed in their own issues to even glance out the door.

"Harry!"

He turned his head abruptly as he heard his name so cheerfully called. He smiled widely at Luna Lovegood, nudging open the door of the compartment to make his way in. Neville Longbottom waved at him from his seat across the eccentric girl, standing up to help him with his luggage.

"I've got it," Harry told the male, pushing Hedwig's cage to a cozy corner in the high shelf, covering her with a sweater so both light and sounds would be muffled. The bird had been a bit grumpy all morning: she had come back from hunting late, and with all the commotion at the Burrow, she had not been able to sleep at all. He heard her give a grateful cooing sound as he pulled away and sat down next to Neville.

"How have you been, Harry?" Luna asked, her even voice seeming particularly happy as she held what Harry thought to be the newest issue of The Quibbler.

Harry had to pause a moment to think about an acceptable answer. They had, for sure, read about the incident during Summer? "Eventful," he settled for saying, and the girl simply nodded and returned to her wrong-side-up magazine, content with that simple answer.

"My grandmother almost had a fit," Neville said, getting Harry's attention to turn to him. "when we saw the news in the Prophet. About the attack in your house." A frightened look took over Neville's face. "T-they knew where you lived all along..."

Harry gave a dry smile, shaking his head a little. "No need to worry about it. Besides, I don't think they'll try another attack there." Hopefully, anyway. But next time, Harry would make sure to stay indoors. Dumbledore had told him about a protective spell over the Dursley house, that would last for a year more: that should be safe enough. If it weren't, surely the Headmaster would have taken stronger measures to protect him.

"So, what O.W.L. classes are you taking this year?" Harry asked, wanting to know how many classes they would share.

"Ah. Well, my best grade was in Herbology," no surprise there, "and I'm taking charms, too. I also did nicely with Defense Against the Dark Arts." Here, the guy turned slightly red around the ears. "My Grandmother was very proud of me."

Harry smiled widely. "That's great, Nevi—"

Small giggles near the door distracted him, and he watched as a pair of girls stared at the three of them and whispered as they walked by.

"They've been doing that for a while, now," Luna said, and for the first time Harry noticed she had put on a pair of weird glasses with spirals painted on them. "They don't think we really fought with you in the Ministry," she added to Harry's perplexed look.

"Well, let them think whatever they want," he mused aloud, although he felt quite discontented that people would not take his friends seriously. And they had been so brave at the Ministry, too... not that he actually wanted to recall those events. "I know just how courageous you both are."

He received two smiles for his comment, and he returned them gladly. Afterwards, they slipped easily into conversations regarding Hogwarts, Quidditch, and a rare type of daffodil, recently discovered, that had a scent like that of a wet cat. The latter had been a pretty one-sided discussion with Neville, and Luna did not loose the opportunity to comment on some weird magical creature that did the same, and which was possibly the cause for the flower's characteristic scent. Harry was not sure what he should say, so he simply didn't open his mouth.

"Has the trolley gone around yet?" Ron's voice came from the entrance of the compartment. Harry grinned at his friend, moving aside to let him sit.

"Not yet. It should be about to, though," Harry commented, not missing Hermione's rigid smile towards Luna as she sat near her. His eyes wandered towards and past the door, but he took a double-take at the sight of something dark and cloaked floating in the distance. Yet there was nothing there, he noticed while intently staring at the cloudy skies. He settled back on his seat, hoping no one would notice his moment of shock.

He relaxed when no one said anything, and even more when he realized how comfortably warm and normal the atmosphere was. No dementors, then.

"Good," Ron said, stretching out before drawing a deck of cards from his pocket. "Fancy some Exploding Snap?"

"The compartment is too small to play that, you're going to blow everyone's eyebrows off," was Hermione's opinion on the subject.

"Madame Pomfrey can spell them back on," Ron dismissed the commentary easily. It was nothing that hadn't been done before, after all.

* * *

A couple of compartments away and further back in the train, four foreigners discussed important topics regarding their stay in Europe.

"So how are we going to contact everyone back home?" Yuusuke asked, stretching widely in his seat and giving a glance to the owl sitting above their heads, with the luggage. "I doubt that thing can go all the way to Japan."

Loud screeching made it clear that Shizuru the Owl did not appreciate being called a "thing". Hiei, sitting near the window, glared at his leader for causing the noisy complain. The detective grunted and sunk into his seat, though still listening intently for an answer.

"I'm sure the wizard community arranges it so letters that travel far away are delivered at any cost. The owls are most likely trained for such situations. But if it's something you'd rather not have checked by wizards, Botan will take care of it, or we can use the communicators Koenma gave us," Kurama cleared.

"Then why do we need Shizuru?" Yuusuke pressed, careful not to cause another outburst.

"It's custom," Kurama shrugged his shoulders, giving a little smile. He wasn't going to send letters to his mother via owls, so he hadn't been concerned for the most part.

"I can send letters to Mildred with Shizuru," Kuwabara provided, although using a heated tone. Of course, he was the only one who would see need for a bird. No member of his family would be startled to get mail from it. Not that Atsuko would care, if she was drunk, but...

"Right. Well, then, we only have one matter to clear," Kurama commented, changing the subject before Yuusuke found something else to complain about. "How will we split up for the Houses?"

The matter had not been touched since yesterday, when Kuwabara's mother had explained it (rather extensively) to them. They knew about it, for brief comments of them in Harry's records, and Koenma had tried to give them a lecture about it sometime during summer. Again, it had not seemed too important at the time, but they would be sorted into said houses right at the beginning of the term, so time was running short.

"I think it's very obvious," Yuusuke said, rolling his eyes. "From what Mildred said about the Houses, I'm going to Slytherin, Kurama to Ravenclaw, Hiei to—"

"And why do _you_ get Slytherin?" Hiei asked, eyes narrow. The slightly evil air with which the House had been described apparently appealed to more than one member of the team. Being in Slytherin also meant not having to watch their behavior too much, at least towards other houses. There were downsides, but this did not frazzle either of the teens.

"You kidding me? I'm the trouble-maker! I skip all my classes just to sleep and use a lot of hair gel, isn't that just vile?"

"I beg to differ, Yuusuke: I think you would go to Gryffindor. You're brave and reckless, after all," Kurama said, eyebrow cocked amusedly. "Besides, Slytherin is not about being evil. It's about being cunning and haughty." Nor did it frazzle the third.

"And the uniform matches your eyes?"

A smirk tugged at the redhead's lips. "Vanity does not have a say in this. Who better to infiltrate a snake den than a master fox thief?"

"Says the one that got caught by monkeys," Hiei sneered. He was obviously not going to let go of that little slip; Kurama hadn't really expected him to. "I'm going to Slytherin. Kurama is going to Ravenclaw, and the other two will end with the lions."

"Now, now, Hiei, you're such a kind-hearted person," Yuusuke said in a sickly sweet tone, earning a glare from the charmed-to-be blue eyes, which he pointedly ignored. "I'm sure you could easily enter Gryffindor. Seeing how much you care for—"

Before anything unfortunate could be said, Kuwabara (quite accidentally) burst into the discussion: "Why are you all so sure I'm going to be in Gryffindor?"

He received three flat stares. The discussion continued a second later.

"We all fit into Slytherin, in one way or another. But then, we fit in all of the other Houses," Kurama pointed out. "We know where Kuwabara will be. We'll need to decide about the other three Houses personally, and will manipulate the Hat's decision if needed."

From the look in their faces, they still couldn't believe a hat, of all things, would be deciding which House they belonged to. Kurama had come to the conclusion that it was probably linked to one of the teachers or another smart entity. The Hat itself couldn't have a brain, unless it was a demon or a cursed object, but since it did not seem to have any side-effects on students, the later option was not plausible.

"Yuusuke is not material for Ravenclaw." Hiei stated curtly.

"Hey!"

"Then I guess I'll try to get in," Kurama decided, looking at the other two. "One of you goes to Slytherin, and the other to Hufflepuff. Have fun trying to decide who gets which."

"Do you think it's sane to leave Potter with only the idiot nearby?" Hiei asked while looking out of the window, as if he didn't really care about the answer.

"Kuwabara is the least suspicious out of all of us," Yuusuke admitted. Granted, he was also the one most likely to blow their cover, but he knew the seriousness of the mission and could be trusted. Optimistically thinking.

Kurama nodded in agreement. "If anything, he could be accepted by Potter and company without much hesitation." And Hiei would be complaining or glaring more harshly about this if he didn't trust Kuwabara's fighting skills. "Whoever gets into Slytherin has an important role, as potential enemies may grow from there, if they have not been planted already. From the sound of it, Slytherin might be the least-liked House. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff posts will be seen as neutral, so it will be easier to move unnoticed. As harmless as these two Houses may seem, we still need to cover as many areas as possible, as they could carry rivals just as easily," the fox stated straightforwardly. "Koenma said we will have a few infiltrated allies, but we still shouldn't expect much from them. Chances are we don't even know who they are."

"Dammit, we're like extreme babysitters," Yuusuke grunted, sinking on the seat and crossing his arms.

"Exactly," Kurama sighed.

The rest of the train ride was fairly ordinary, and as the sun started to fall in the horizon, a light rain came down on them. The droplets made for a rather soothing song against the glass of the train, quieting the sound of the locomotive. Although the travel across the green lands was very long, the environment and the treat of being able to buy candies and drinks near the middle of the trip had made for a relaxing afternoon. Hiei had dozed off along with Kuwabara and Yuusuke, at least once during the travel.

A few minutes into the drizzle, Kurama stood, suggesting them to change garments.

Along with the translation badges, and although they wouldn't use them often, they had been given a set of uniforms from the Japanese magic school. They had still bought the robes required for Hogwarts, as they would be using that during classes.

"I like these better than the dresses," Yuusuke stated, straightening his black-outlined white tunic and attaching the translator badge over the right half of his chest.

"Robes, Yuusuke," Kurama reminded him, tapping a foot against the ground to set his shoe in place. "But I do prefer these, too." He was used to this sort of clothing, and the material these were made from was specially soft. Perhaps too delicate for fighting, but these were supposedly made to give a good impression for the wizards.

"They do look like dresses, though, the ones wizards wear." Kuwabara was just pulling the tunic over his arms, stifling his voice while he talked.

"Hn," was Hiei's take on the whole situation. He secured the loose black trousers to his body by placing a white belt tightly around his waist. It was later hidden from view, as he let the tunic fall over it.

With how dark it was outside, just glancing at the window gave a perfect mirror view. Kurama couldn't help but stare for a second, and decided that he was grateful that they had _not_ needed to wear similar clothes at the Dark Tournament. Something about wearing exactly the same as his teammates was unnerving, even after years of having to follow regular uniform codes at the human schools of Japan.

The train came to a stop, and he noticed the glistening of lights in the small, welcoming station.

Yuusuke nodded decisively upon receiving questioning looks, and he made his way out of the compartment with the rest of the team following closely behind. Mildred had told them they could leave their luggage there, so they just worried about finding their way out of the sea of children. It was then, as Yuusuke elbowed aside a few towering sixth years, that Kurama noticed the obvious display of height-difference between an average Japanese and an average Londoner.

They followed not the first-years, but the higher years to the castle by riding on carriages led by skeletal horses. Kuwabara couldn't help but cringe away from them, but Hiei seemed more keen towards the harmless creatures. Though neither him or Kurama could tell what they were, as this kind of animal was not seen in the Makai. After stepping out of the carriages, they were carried by the crowd of students into the castle, and they had little time to take in the magnificent size of the place, or even the antique-looking hallways, before they reached a wide door leading into what seemed to be an enormous dining room.

At this point, Kurama made sure to step out of the students' way and stand by the entrance, tugging Kuwabara and Yuusuke back to the spot when they made a move to go sit in one of the four tables. Hiei rested against the wall, giving a general glare at anyone that looked their way. The tables were filled quickly, along with the table up front, which stood taller than the rest. The table was obviously meant for teachers, given the occupants of most of the chairs, and only two or three remained empty.

"What are they all waiting for?" Yuusuke muttered as the students just chatted among themselves.

"Ah. There you are," a female's voice called from somewhere nearby, the doors they had come from opening. The strict face that greeted them was a bit familiar to the redhead, and he recalled the moment he had seen her for the first time, across the dirty inn, at London. He couldn't pass it as a coincidence, but he didn't really know if it was normal for teachers to go to the Ministry or not.

Behind the woman, a bunch of shivering, wet, short first-years gathered, eyes wide at the sight of the enchanted ceiling – a reaction akin to Kuwabara's and Yuusuke's.

"You were supposed to follow with the first-years," she pointed out, eyebrows arched in a way that was more demanding than questioning.

"Sorry, Ma'am, but we didn't get any instructions. We just tagged along with the students that actually seemed to know where to go," Kurama said easily, tilting his head slightly towards the seaed students. Luckily, the woman seemed to admit this, although her sternness did not fade in the least.

"Alright. I'm Professor McGonagall; follow me. We'll sort you after the first years."

They fell into step behind the large group of whispering kids, their group a bit separated from theirs. As they made their way nearer to the front, and more eyes focused on them, the view of the Professors at the staff table became clearer. It didn't take long for Kurama to recognize the man sitting at the center: the old wizard who had long white beard and hair, and who had a curious air around him. The way he watched the small group (for they stood out a lot with their white pieces of clothing) was awkwardly gentle.

The woman leading the group parted with them in order to go to the front, where a small wooden stool and a ragged old hat sat. The hat was lifted only to be placed down again, though now a bit more straight. Then, to the surprise of the newcomers, it began to speak. Or rather, sing.

"That thing is freaky as hell," Yuusuke murmured, not caught in the magic of the moment and not paying attention to whatever the hat was singing. It sounded like a school hymn or something of the sort, as it was describing the Houses and their characteristics. "Say," he said, turning to the rest of the group. "Who's getting sorted first?"

"Who knows," Kuwabara muttered, shoulders stiff as he watched the hat's "mouth" move. "I just hope it doesn't bite or something."

"I don't think it would hurt, even if it did. It's a piece of cloth," Yuusuke argued.

"It's starting," Hiei snapped, arms crossed over his chest.

"Lowell, Avery!" Indeed, the Hat had stopped singing, and Professor McGonagall was calling names off a list. There didn't seem to be a particular order to the names, or, at least, it wasn't alphabetical.

"So we really won't know," Kurama murmured, taking a few steps forward along with the rest of his partners. There weren't many first-years to begin with, and the small group of kids in front of them was growing thinner as each went up and got sorted by the hat. The hat did this by loudly calling the name of the House, and after a few rounds of clapping, it was obvious which table was for each House.

Soon there were no more first-years, and the four teenagers just stood there, looking expectantly at the professors' table.

"This year," McGonagall announced, pulling out a much shorter piece of yellowish, old-looking paper. Her voice was strong, and carried well through the silent hall. "four of your classmates have entered a special exchange program with a magic school located in Asia. For that same program, these four students have come all the way from Japan, and will be joining us for the term. Please be kind to your new classmates."

She gave all the tables a meaningful look, very similar to the looks Keiko gave Yuusuke when she didn't want him to mess something up. Of course, it would be unsightly if she started lecturing her students in front of the foreigners, so that look would have to suffice. The professor pulled the small piece of paper into sight, and a look of uncertainty crossed her face for a brief moment.

"Hiei," she finally called, looking questioningly at the group.

"She looks upset," Yuusuke said with a low whistle, kicking Hiei's ankle lightly. "Go ahead, little one."

The fire apparition growled, but moved forward after a moment. Kurama saw him fixing his headband in place, but he had a good-enough sight to notice he was actually loosening it. He really hoped there would be no need for the Jagan. Hiei sat on the stool, mimicking the other students, and the hat was just old and big enough that it could envelope all of Hiei's questionable hairstyle, though not without a grunt from the short male.

There was silence for a while, and Kurama could see small lines of stress at the corners of his friend's lips. Whatever the Hat was doing, Hiei did not seem to be enjoying it. But eventually...

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Dammit, Hiei!" Yuusuke cursed aloud, just as a few hesitant claps started taking strength. The short fire demon smirked lightly as the hat was taken away, and stepped off the seat, starting to head down to the Slytherin table.

He had not taken two steps, though, and his clothes started changing colors. Kurama arched an eyebrow quizzically at the sight: all white in Hiei's clothes had faded into the dark green that decorated certain parts of the Slytherin uniform. Thankfully, the black parts did not change color: A green-and-silver scheme might be far too bright. It would have been nice to know about this before putting on these clothes, for surely this had to be a trick that Amaterasu no Tou Gakkou considered fun.

Hiei succesfully pretended to ignore the startling change in his attire, and sat at the first free spot he found in the Slytherin table.

"Kuwabara, Kazuma," was the next name McGonagall called, taking some attention off Hiei.

"Here goes nothing!" Kuwabara said excitedly, boldly making his way over.

Kurama leaned discretely towards Yuusuke as their second teammate sat on the stool. "Seems you're going to Hufflepuff," he said quietly, feeling a glare turned to him.

The hat had barely touched the top of Kuwabara's head, when it called: "GRYFFINDOR!"

Kazuma seemed torn between excitement and annoyance as he made his way to the table cheering the loudest: he could hardly ignore the told-you-so look he was getting from the rest of the team. There was also the fact his own clothes had changed to a red-and-black pattern.

"Minamino, Shuuichi."

"Stick to the plan, Yuusuke," Kurama murmured in a request tone, before smiling up at the professor and making his way over to the stool. When the hat was placed over his head, half of his world became dark. This thing really was oversized, and it smelled funny, to boot...

"_Ah. Interesting, indeed!"_

He carefully resisted the urge to grimace and frown. He did not allow Hiei to go messing with his mind, why should he allow a Hat to do so? Yes, he could feel soft, almost silky cloth fingers prodding into his mind. Alas, they did not seem like very long "fingers"... so the Hat could not see memories. A limited version of mind-reading, then? Personality traits would be the most it should see.

"_Indeed. The short one noticed, too, but he didn't react as calmly, initially."_

...It could also read immediate thoughts. _'I can imagine,'_ Kurama said, shifting where he sat and relaxing a little.

"_Yes, but on to you. Hm. You are very loyal, but you are also cunning and can be cold. You are very mature for someone your age,"_ here, Kurama made sure to keep his mind carefully neutral. As long as he didn't strongly think about himself, the hat would not be able to see more than it needed. _"You are also very intelligent and brave..."_ The hat trailed off as if in thought, and Kurama smiled.

'_I'm sorry to interfere with your judgment,'_ he said, as politely as he could with an object that was violating his thoughts, _'but is there any chance I could go to Ravenclaw?'_

"_Oh? One would think you would like to go with one of your partners..."_ Kurama carefully allowed a few of his knowledge-hungry thoughts forth, along with a memory of Mildred's description of the requested House. The Hat did not notice the intent between the new thoughts, and took them as sincere and spontaneous. _"But I see why you want that House so badly. Alright, then, it'll be..."_

"RAVENCLAW!"

Kurama smiled pleasantly as he stood, taking a moment to glance down: sure enough, his tunic was turning blue. He nodded his approval and headed for one of the middle tables, where his new classmates were. He exchanged a brief glance with Hiei, before turning to Yuusuke. His name had been called already, and the teenager was grumpily allowing his head to be covered with the hat.

His feet tapped against the ground lightly as the hat shifted on his head, it's expression changing every now and then.

"What do you mean, _Not Suited For Hufflepuff!"_

Kurama would have slapped his forehead, had they not been in public.

"Of course I'm suited to Hufflepuff! I want to go to that House!" Yuusuke's complaining to the hat was causing all sort of reactions: some Slytherins were snickering, and not being too secretive about it; the other Houses seemed content with murmuring among themselves at the foreigner's sudden explosion. "Why, you--!"

Luckily for the team, Yuusuke quieted down. It was highly unlikely that he was embarrassed, though, so maybe a negotiation? The grin spreading his friend's lips was both relieving and concerning for Kurama.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"That's what I was talking about!"

Yuusuke stood, looking quite proud of himself. His expression fell slightly as his clothes turned yellow. "I look like a darned bumble-bee," he mumbled, but it was still loud enough to be heard (McGonagall gave him a disapproving look). His House's table was in the middle, too, next to Ravenclaw's, so he took the chance to sit at the same level Kurama was, so they were back to back.

"Very discrete, Yuusuke," Kurama murmured, just loud enough that the detective would hear. All he got was a small, pleased grunt.

The Hall grew silent, and the team looked up front to see that the old man with white beard had stood. His arms were outstretched in a warm greeting, sentiment shared by his eyes.

"To the new students: welcome. To the students returning: welcome back. To our special guests from Japan, I hope you four will enjoy your stay in our school. Our staff will aid you with any problem you have. Now, before we begin our feast, I'd like to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor," he nodded at the doors across the room just as they creaked open.

Every pair of eyes in the room turned towards the entrance, through which not one, but two tall males were coming through. Their dark hair and pale skin were quite familiar.

"Hey, that's Romeo," Yuusuke said, leaning back a little to get a better look. "Why isn't he wearing a wizard-dress?"

Indeed, Romeo and Sebastian were not wearing robes. The dark human suits made them look like the only sane persons in the whole room, actually. The Headmaster (for that he had to be) waited patiently at the staff table, until both Grim Reapers reached the table. Romeo lingered at the edge, taking a seat at the very end. Sebastian went ahead to shake the man's hand, though.

"Sebastian Grim," Dumbledore introduced. "He found enough time in his busy agenda to come teach here, so treat him with the respect you give every other Professor."

The tall, pale man nodded at the students, not looking too excited. Then he took his seat near Romeo, muttering something to the youth.

"So those are our 'allies'," Kurama murmured, raising his eyebrows lightly as Romeo was also introduced ("_Professor Grim's assistant and student_"). "It could have been worse."

They, at least, seemed to have some sense of discretion, and would not go yelling at hats.

* * *

Author Notes:

"_Daphne Greengrass_" : Canon

"_Bernard Bryson, Avery Lowell_" : Non-canon

"_It was not that her dating Dean Thomas bothered him horribly (a fellow Gryffindor of good intentions), but he really could use the company."_ : I am not completely sure yet, if I'll be following canon romance-wise. And I've never particularly liked the Ginny x Harry pairing the way it was carried in the books, so it is not likely that Harry will suffer of "horribly monsters in his stomach" this year, even if he does end up with Ginny. Sorry for those who like the couple as it was in the books.

"_McGonagall's anger_" : I personally would think someone was pulling a prank on me, if a person was officially listed as being without a last name.


	8. Timely Tryouts

Prior Author Notes: Thanks for Reading.

Harry Potter and the Arc of Death

**Chapter 8.- **_Timely Tryouts_

The first day of classes was going as smoothly as always, and given who was the professor of the first class that day, students were happily chatting among themselves. Flitwick had never been as stern as McGonagall or unfair as Snape, so it was easier getting away with this sort of thing in class. Just in case the friends hadn't been able to chat enough last night at the dormitories, small exchanges were going on all across the room.

The room was full of energetic students, wearing either red or yellow along with their customary black uniform. Light poured through the windows, warming the classroom to a nice temperature during that windy morning.

Of course, when the short professor stood on a small stool and tapped his wand against the board, all voices died away immediately.

"Welcome, students, to the O.W.L. level Charms class!" The short man greeted, hands clapped together in front of him. "And welcome, of course, to our transfers from Japan," a hand went forward to wave lightly at the pair sitting near the end of the classroom.

Only Kuwabara returned the greeting awkwardly, while Yuusuke stared sideways towards a window with dropping eyelids, not trying to hide his sleepiness.

The whispers across the classroom promptly resumed. While Slytherin and Ravenclaw would have little to gossip about, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor had been able to get a full show of their guests' unfamiliarity towards the most common magic devices. Yuusuke had snapped at and threatened the portraits for startling the hell out of him more than once (the students had been lucky that their route to the dormitories didn't have many of them), and while Kuwabara had been warned of them, he did throw a punch at a moving armor. Hermione had fixed it with a simple spell, but still lectured the teenager until they arrived to the Gryffindor common room.

Needless to say, their knowledge on magic was questionable. Were they really fit for any O.W.L. level classes?

"Now, now," Professor Flitwick scolded lightly, hushing the students once more. "Our visitors will be taking any classes they want through the first week. Afterwards, if they show potential in the classes they most liked, the teachers will decide if they can or cannot stay. As I understand, their school doesn't have anything like our O.W.L. exams, so having them take the tests would be pointless. Do give them a hand if they need it." After a few seconds without complain from either House, the Professor resumed the class. "This year, we'll be starting on nonverbal spells. Is there anyone who can tell me what those are?"

Harry glanced over to see that, sure enough, Hermione's hand had shot up, the girl's eagerness making her ignore the person next to her. Poor Neville; after five years of suffering the same, Harry had learned not to sit next to the brunette in classes: a hand shooting up precariously close to your face was hardly something you appreciated.

"Throwing spells without talking." The lazy answer came from the back of the room before the professor could call Hermione's name.

"Well, yes-- put simply. Ten points to Hufflepuff. But Mr. Urameshi, you should ask permission to talk in class by raising your hand, before giving any answers," Professor Flitwick said kindly.

Harry saw Yuusuke shrug his shoulders, but it seemed too optimistic to think it was a gesture of apology. "I was guessing."

The green-eyed wizard felt a small grin tug at his lips, but it disappeared as soon as he heard Hermione's disapproving huff. On the other hand, the professor did not seem too bothered by Yuusuke's blunt response, and continued by asking them to take out their books and wands.

They spent the rest of the class practicing nonverbal spells. It proved to be more complicated than thought.

After the first twenty fruitless minutes, most of the class settled for silently muttering the spells or just saying them very quickly, like Harry and Ron. Otherwise, they just got frustrated.

While turning around to see how Hermione and Neville were doing, Harry saw something unusual. Urameshi and Kuwabara seemed to be struggling the most, if only because they didn't seem to know how to move their wands: they would move them uncomfortably and like a sword. On top of that, Yuusuke had an odd grip on his: he insisted on placing a finger parallel to the wood, pointing it along with the wood. But that wasn't the strange thing, no; it was the material of the wands which bothered Harry. Either it was made of some weird magic tree Harry had never heard of before, or that was metal.

He took a brief glance over at Kuwabara, who was being helped by Professor Flitwick. The little professor was demonstrating to the foreigners how to move the wand for the spell they were trying.

The professor didn't seem to find their wands odd, and if he did, he was not commenting about them. So Harry just allowed it to slide and returned to his desk, where he was trying to levitate a piece of parchment wordlessly. Maybe those were the sort of wands they used in Asia.

By the end of the class, only Hermione had managed to cast a nonverbal spell. Granted, her lips were pressed together so tightly they were turning white in her efforts not to talk.

The students filed out of the classroom after putting their books and wands away, leaving the space clear for the next hour's class.

"Come on, Urameshi!" Harry heard while heading for the door with Hermione and Ron.

"I'm going to try the Defense class with Kurama," Yuusuke was telling Kuwabara, carelessly pushing his book into his bag. "We don't have all the classes together, remember?"

"Ah, right..." Yuusuke hit Kuwabara's shoulder and said something in Japanese, before running off the classroom. Kuwabara waved a fist after him, "Hey! Come back and repeat that in my face, you--!"

"Watch it!" Ron said, shrinking back and out of the way of Kuwabara's fist.

"Sorry!" Kuwabara said hastily, his anger disappearing in a second. He sidestepped to get out of the way of the rest of the students, and so Harry, Hermione, and Ron could get through.

The bell rang distantly, echoing through the castle, and the three students made their way down the hallway, advancing through the sea of students that had already gotten out of their classes. With so many footsteps all around, they didn't notice that Gryffindor's transfer student was following, until he took Harry' attention by patting his shoulder. He'd surely ran over from the classroom to catch up with them.

"Mind if I tag along?" He asked, walking alongside the group.

Harry hesitated. "What class are you going to try next?" he asked. They could direct him to the next class they had, but he didn't really know if Kuwabara would be interested in it.

"Which one are you heading for?"

"Potions," Ron replied.

"I'll try that one, then," Kazuma decided. He did not seem discouraged by Ron's tone of disgust when responding, though Harry could see he was perturbed. "Sorry – I lost the map McGonagall gave us this morning, so..."

"It's okay," Harry assured, catching up on the foreigner's anxiousness. "It's just that we don't like the class that much." Which was an understatement. Harry would have gladly dropped this one class, if it wasn't necessary for a career as Auror. With Snape as a teacher, his chances of getting into the NEWT-level class were slim, but he would be damned if he didn't try his best.

As they made it into the staircase to the dungeons, the air became thicker with moisture. The hallways went from sun-lit through the tall windows, to dimly illuminated by the torches hanging from the walls. There had always been something menacing about this place, something sinister. With the Slytherin dormitories somewhere in that low floor, such thoughts couldn't be simple coincidence. The sixth-year Slytherin class was already gathered in front of the Potions classroom by the time Harry's group got there. The amount of students was surprising, now that the requirements for this level had been lowered. Still, Harry noticed with some satisfaction, Draco Malfoy stood without Crabe or Goyle flanking him. Of course those two hadn't made it into the class: they had only been free of Snape's remarks because of the color of their badge.

The Slytherins and Gryffindors were in two visible groups, and just a bit beyond those two, leaning against a wall, was another of the mysterious transfer students. Arms crossed, eyes closed, the teenager did not have any apparent interest in interacting with his new classmates.

"Hey, shrimp!"

Given the obvious tease, it was a bit surprising to see Kuwabara part with their group, go past the Slytherin half, and head towards the other transfer with a friendly wave of his hand.

"I see you're as antisocial as ever," he said, in a tone that suggested he was not aware they had two curious Houses watching. "So, if you admit my superiority, I will allow you to sit next to the Great Kazuma Kuwabara!" Although the sight of him pointing a thumb at his own chest was comical, there was no doubt he was being serious about the title.

Harry was one of the guilty watchers, wondering along with the rest if the two were friends. There must have been a reason for the shorter student to be placed in Slytherin; as prejudiced as it could seem, Harry had not expected them to be friends. There was no such friendship within the usual Hogwarts students, but if there had not been Houses at their school, then maybe Kuwabara had missed any dark quirks about the dark-haired teen...

_As impossible as it seems_, Harry thought as he watched the foreigner. Even if they were all using the same uniform, the shady air around the guy was undeniable.

"You are an idiot," Hiei said coldly, placing his trouser's pockets before walking into the Potion's Classroom – everyone had been so attentive of their conversation that no one had noticed the door was already open, the professor glaring at them from the front of the room.

With his answer, an invisible tension was lifted from the Houses, and everyone hastily made their way into the classroom. An even thicker atmosphere of dislike waited within the room, and silence fell upon the room. The Potions Master up at the front gave them his usual glare; this one seemed even more hateful than normal, and it stopped on three specific individuals. One of them (obviously) being Harry, and the other two being the exchange students. Harry knew he wasn't being paranoid when he noticed the softening of the expression when it arrived to the Slytherin-half of the room. Snape had always been softer to the Slytherins, if _softer_ meant to ignore most of their faults in class.

But his next words seemed equally harsh on all of them.

"I expect half of the seats to be empty by the end of the term." He started walking around the front of the room, his wand snapping out towards the boards, instructions appearing on the dark surface in the blink of an eye. The professor definitely was upset about something. "Those who cannot keep up with the class work will be taken out of the class, with or without an Exceeds Expectation grade in their OWL exam." Another wave of the wand, and the doors of the student cupboard opened, wordlessly offering their ingredients to the students.

"I won't accept burdens in my class," he added, his eyes landing specifically on Kuwabara. "If our guests are not planning on joining the class, they should go waste their time elsewhere. Did I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes sir!" Harry dared a glance back at the teenager, seeing him tense and with squared shoulders.

"Hn." Hiei did not seem as nervous.

"Very well. Today we will work with a very simple potion, the details are on the board. Begin."

* * *

Harry rubbed the back of his neck tiredly as they made it out of Potion's class. "Simple" wasn't the word he would use for the Potion they had been given today. Supposedly, thirty minutes into the making, the potion should have a dark violet color. But even Hermione had only managed a cotton-candy color on her own, after several minutes of stirring and beads of sweat falling down her forehead. Harry's and Ron's had stubbornly remained a sickly pale blue color: not even close to the results.

Kuwabara was the only reason why Snape had not taken five minutes to insult their results.

The male had gotten his potion to _blow up_ near the end of the class, and Snape's rage lasted through the finishing minutes of the class. That didn't stop him from ordering a very long essay due to next week. Harry did not know if he should be grateful for not being yelled at, or upset that Kuwabara had gotten them such heavy homework. Which the red-haired foreigner would not have to turn in, as he was obviously not staying in that class.

"Is he always like that?" Kazuma asked, his expression pissed.

"Yeah, but he usually targets Harry," Ron cleared, flexing his fingers. Maybe they had cramped, after spending all the class cutting the ingredients. "Snape's a real pain."

"_Professor_ Snape, Ron," Hermione scolded, much like the youth's mother would.

"Not you too!"

Harry tuned out of the bickering easily thanks to five years of practice, focusing on the small crowd of students gathered around the door of the Defense classroom instead. Neville was struggling a little to get past the group, and did a small jog to meet with them. He had not been in the Potion class, just as he'd commented on the train, so it was logic that he got here faster.

"There's not going to be class today," he said, motioning feebly towards the door. "There's a note on the door. It says that something important came up and Professor Grim had to leave. It also said to read the first chapter of the book if you don't have anything better to do."

Harry glanced over at the students in front of the door, thinking of going to read the note himself. It would be a waste of time, though, and so would be to wait for the other students to get out of the way.

"Guess it can't be helped," he said, shaking his head a little. A small smile tugged at his lips, and he looked over at Ron, who had stopped arguing when Neville came over. "Want to play chess at the dormitory?"

He caught Hermione's excited look before the redhead could answer, and gave a wince. "Hermione..."

"_Hermione_ what? You can start on the essay Professor Snape gave us, and I will get to check some books."

Harry really thought he should be grateful, for he knew what Hermione would be checking in those books. Gratefulness, however, didn't stop him from groaning loudly with Ron as they were both pulled down the hallway in the Library's direction.

* * *

The glee that had filled Rubeus Hagrid throughout the students' summer vacations had quickly drained within the first day of classes.

The classes with the years first through fifth had gone well enough. It seemed, though, that there were no students interested in taking the sixth-year class this year. The class-hour would now be of free time for him, to tend to his field of pumpkins and Witherwings, but the half-giant couldn't seem to appreciate it. Not even his three best students, who had achieved the required qualification in the OWLs, would be joining him in the class.

The huge man huffed lightly to hide his disappointment, standing up from his chair and moving towards the other end of the hut. Maybe he should spend this free hour killing those annoying, oversized beetles near the lake: he hadn't had time to with all the works for the Order.

He reached up over the window with ease to fetch his pink umbrella, but paused as he saw something just out of it. He did a double take, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. His heavy steps would be heard easily, and the door of the hut opening would not be no surprise to the tiny student. Hagrid took a single step out, but it was enough to get more than halfway out of the small house.

Now that he was this close, he could clearly see the Slytherin badge on the short, spiky-haired boy's uniform. It couldn't be a first-year, because those had classes with Pomona right now. The boy had a troublemaker air around him, and the white headband around his head giving his blue eyes a more menacing look.

"What are yeh doin' here?" he asked warily with his strong , shifting his weight a little.

The student just gave him a very impassive look, which made it harder to believe he would be of the younger students, despite his height.

"This is the Care of Magical Creatures class, right? Sixth year?" he asked, not taking his hands out of his pockets.

For a moment, Hagrid was quiet, his eyes widened a little. Then, a short, hearty laugh came from his throat, and he nodded. "Yeah. Give me jus' a moment."

He went back into the hut to fetch what he would need for the class. Things were ready since the day before classes, and it was great that his plans for this year class would not be wasted. Granted, he would have to change everything to fit his single-student class. But even a single student showing up was enough to make Hagrid's chest swell with happiness.

* * *

"Welcome to the class of Defense Against Dark Arts." Sebastian's voice carried well through the classroom, which lacked any sort of decoration. That in itself made it different from the previous fifth years, as it gave the room a slightly dull, cold feeling to it. Just like that of their new professor.

"I won't apologize for not coming to class yesterday, because it couldn't be helped. My main job and priorities are in the Ministry—" There was a murmur of discomfort and disapproval across the room, but the professor merely cocked an eyebrow before continuing. "—, so I can't just ignore my duties there. I will, however, try to arrange things so they won't mess with class too much. So don't think you can slack off with homework and not study for exams because of the possibility of the teacher being absent. If there is a set date for such an event and I'm not here, I'll have My assistant, Romeo Grim, pick up essays or apply tests."

He waited a moment, glaring at the room until the still on-going whisper faded, and then nodded.

The professor hadn't done anything so far but explain his basic rules and half the reason of his absence, and yet he already half of the class against him. Given how the last Professor who had their loyalty with the Ministry had behaved, though, Harry could not blame his fellow Gryffindors.

"Alright. Take out your books, we'll spend this class going over what you learned in previous years."

Harry placed his wand in his robe pocket while taking out the book required for this year. It seemed they wouldn't do any practice today. It was a bit disappointing, but he wouldn't think too badly of the professor just yet. He was not nearly as annoying as Umbridge had been. And surely Dumbledore would not allow another Ministry pawn in the role of Defense teacher. Fudge was also out of the Ministry, so maybe it was just the bitter taste their last Defense professor had left, which biased them.

"Another thing," most heads in the room snapped up from their book-fetching, "I'm not familiar with the English grading system. So I had to accept everyone who passed last year's test into the class. I will, however, ask people to abandon the class if they do not fulfill my expectations."

With those words being so similar to Snape's, Harry could not stop a cramp of wariness from forming in the back of his mind. He opened his book in the introductory pages. They had rarely ever seen these pages in the past years, with all the first classes being more active, so this was a bit odd.

When Professor Grim started talking again, Harry settled back on his seat for a long class consisting on an endless lecture. He would consider re-starting the DA reunions if this professor turned out like the last. The looks that the bored Dean and Seamus sent his way every-so-often during the class told him they would no doubt agree on the matter.

* * *

The first few days of class had been fairly uneventful for Kurama. He thought the group had done a good job in keeping a low profile: the worst rumors he'd heard of their group were about Yuusuke disliking magic devices, Kuwabara blowing up a potion, Shuuichi looking like a girl, and Hiei being creepy. Other than that, the students seemed to accept their presence without second thoughts. The redhead thought they should thank Koenma for that, for getting Amaterasu's Fighting School to lend their aid. All they had to do was keep up the appearances, maybe seem dull, and a few escapades to search for Sirius Black on the surrounding areas would not be noticed.

Kurama's quill tapped gently against the edge of a scroll, taking the excess of ink off. He tried to write the kanji of "home" in the paper, and instead watched as his fingers seemed to twist on their own and give the English equivalent instead. His eyebrows cocked beneath his red fringe, twisting the white feather in his hand. He still hadn't gotten used to this aspect of the translator badges.

Well, at least he could talk Japanese with the badge on, but he would keep trying to find duality in his writing, too.

Finishing with the words he needed to write, he pushed that yellowish scroll a bit further up his desk, giving sight of the lighter one beneath it. A very simplistic map of Hogwarts had been drawn, copied from a book in the Library. McGonagall had given them a map of the indoors, so Kurama had just sketched symbols of the buildings outside. The Owlery, the Lake's surface, the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch Pitch, the gates, and the Caretaker's hut. His eyes lingered on the Quidditch Pitch for a moment, and his lips twisted slightly in contempt.

The day he'd planned on slipping out of the castle before dinner was the day Kuwabara had picked for making the team try out broom-flying.

He rolled the parchment swiftly as he heard steps at the front of the classroom, pushing it into his bag discretely just before the teacher arrived to his desk. He handed over the scroll to allow her to verify his work, and the elderly woman nodded in approval.

"You certainly have talent. And you say you never studied Runes before?" Professor Babbling asked.

"I never considered to study them seriously, but I do have some before-hand experience with some," Kurama admitted. It was also a great coincidence that some of the runes resembled the writings of demons. Seeing that blood rituals and long-term curses had originated in the Makai and leaked into the human world around the Medieval era, and that this class studied "ancient" and not "modern" runes, it made sense for the characters to be nearly the same. But the r's looked much like l's, now.

"Well, I hope you decide to stick around for the rest of the term," the professor said, going back to picking up the work of other students before the bell rang. The distant, echoing sound was something he still hadn't gotten used to, either.

Kurama gathered his things and looked up at the person sitting nearest. One of the guys in his dormitory.

"Mr. Entwhistle? Would you know of the quickest route to the Quidditch Pitch?"

"The Quidditch Pitch?" the guy repeated, looking up from his bag and brushing some hair away from his face. "Sure. Why do you want to go, though?"

"I promised to meet up with my friends there," he said simply, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Seeing he had not spent more than a week here, surely Kevin would catch up on him meaning the other transfer students.

"I can take you there," a high-pitched voice offered, and Kurama turned towards it. "I'm heading there, anyway."

Ah, yes. Hermione Granger. One of Harry Potter's friends; they had to keep an eye over her and the Weasley kid, too, just in case Sirius's need of protecting stretched to them as well. This was the reason why Kurama was wasting his time in Ancient Runes, and Hiei in History of Magic. Harry and Ron were in most of the same classes so far, and all were covered. Well, all but Muggle Studies, which no one had offered to take over.

Kurama pulled on a smile, nodding. "I'd be very grateful."

"See you at dinner, Minamino," Entwhistle said, giving a wave before parting ways.

Kurama waved until they were out of sight, and then turned his attention on to Hermione.

"I think we never got to introduce ourselves," he said. This would be the first time he interacted with her since their groups meeting at Diagon Alley. "My name is Shuuichi Minamino, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Hermione Granger," the girl replied, giving a small smile. "I noticed you've come to all classes of Arithmancy this week. Are you going to stay in the class?"

"I'm not sure, but it seems really interesting," and there was no one else that wanted that class. "I'll decide through the weekend, though. This week we were allowed to just see if we liked the classes, after all."

His eyes wandered over to the various armors on the hallway, some of which shifted when they walked past them. It was really hard not to be jumpy inside the castle, as they did not know what was common and what wasn't. They could not trust student reactions, either: some humans just didn't notice important or dangerous things until it was too late. But Granger seemed like a very observant person, so Kurama guessed he could trust her judgment indoors.

They went through a heavy-looking wooden door and to the outside. The fields of the school were really beautiful. But it was far too obvious that they took care of them with magic: it left an almost artificial taste on nature, like the plastic flowers some humans liked to place in their living rooms. The Forest was safe of that feeling, as well as the lake. It was mostly the grass which had the problem, and Kurama could not blame the teachers: It would be a pain to cut such large amounts by human means.

The Quidditch Pitch already had a few people by the time they arrived. Yuusuke, Kuwabara, and Hiei were gathered around four brooms, while Potter and Weasley stood a bit away and chatted. Kurama joined his group while Hermione joined hers.

"Potter is the Captain?" he asked as he was handed a broom, frowning slightly. Hiei wore a similar expression, while the other two members of the team seemed very excited.

"Yeah. I heard Ron talking to him about setting a date for some try-outs, so I asked him to teach us how to fly."

"You should have asked us first, you idiot," Hiei said, not looking nearly as enthusiastic.

"What, you're afraid of heights?" Kuwabara asked with a wide, mocking grin.

"That's enough, now," Kurama scolded lightly, hearing footsteps approaching through the well-kept grass. "Hello, Mr. Potter."

"Hi," the teenager said clumsily, waving the hand that was not holding a broom. "So… all of you will be flying?" he asked. So Kuwabara hadn't actually asked Harry to teach _the four_ of them.

"Yep," Yuusuke said, kicking the brooms on the ground lightly. "Got the professors to lend us these," he explained.

"Alright, then." Kurama noticed the uneasy glare Ron had on Hiei, but couldn't tell if Harry was as wary of him. Since Hiei was a Slytherin, though, he probably felt the same way as his friend. But he still instructed them to each take a broom and stand next to it.

The tantei spent the next five minutes trying to get the brooms in their hands without touching them, only by saying "up". After a while of the brooms just rolling about, shooting past their hands, or flat-out remaining still, they managed to hold the brooms in their hands. Brooms seemed to be vessels for magic. It was not as easy as pouring energy into it, though, and Kurama was glad no one had tried it. Who knew what sort of result they would have gotten. Channeling energy into the brooms was something instinctive, but Kurama could tell that it was like riding a bicycle: it wasn't likely that any of them would forget.

Flying was equally instinctive... but here, natural skills came more into play.

"Keep your grip steady, Minamino! It'll help you go faster!" Kurama heard from several feet below him. He'd picked this height to stay away from Yuusuke and Kuwabara's path. They had fallen at least twice since they began flying, and they had run into each other once. They were still up and going, though, not bothered by their inelegance.

"I don't believe my grip is the problem, Mr. Potter!" he shouted back, slowly lowering his broom to land near the pair of friends. Hermione had gone to take a seat on the stands to read. "I think flying a broom isn't my thing," he decided with a wry smile.

"You weren't doing too bad," Ron said, apparently trying to encourage him. "You were just going too slowly."

"I'm aware. I don't think I can handle speed well, that's all." He looked up, raising his eyebrows lightly at the dark blotch in the sky. "Hiei's really good at it, though." He even seemed to be enjoying it.

"He has potential," Harry agreed, though his tone wasn't exactly delighted.

Kurama smiled almost mockingly, the expression out of sight of the two students. It seemed the Slytherin-Gryffindor exaggerated rivalry had not been exaggerated.

But maybe that wouldn't be a completely bad thing.

* * *

Author Notes:

"_Bathsheba Babbling"_ : Ancient Runes Professor. Not strictly canon, but Rowling did have her in this role in an early draft of Prisoner of Azkaban.

"_Kevin Entwhistle"_ : Canon, Ravenclaw male

_Like in previous chapters, I'm sure this one has some grammar or spelling mistakes. I double-check every chapter, but quite obviously, I'm not perfect, and I seem to skip over the mistakes I make. So I was wondering if someone might want to help me out. A Beta-Reader who focuses on grammar and spelling would be just perfect. I'm aware the plot will have plotholes and mistakes in the plot, but that's not what I'm interested in improving. I am writing this for fun, after all, but it does bother me to make some obvious mistakes in writing. Maybe if someone points them out to me, I'll know what to check more closely next time._

_If interested send a private message or an e-mail. Thanks for reading.  
_


	9. Out of Sight

Prior Author Notes: Thanks for Reading.

Harry Potter and the Arc of Death

**Chapter 9.- **_Out of Sight_

It was early in the morning that Saturday, the first weekend after the beginning of classes for the whole school. The sun was starting to peek out from the horizon, and only a few early-birds were making their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Several owls flew from the front of the castle toward the owlery, ruining Hiei's view of the fields. But since frowning was his trademark expression, no one really noticed he was actually mad at something.

The little demon sat near a window on an empty desk. They were occupying one of the empty classrooms of the castle, as they couldn't use the common rooms of their Houses. Through the week, they had found that it was rare for some Houses to get along. Accurately, any house and Slytherin. They hadn't gotten too much suspicion because of Hiei's natural dislike for Kuwabara, but Kurama and Yuusuke had gotten their share of odd looks when hanging out with him in class. Not that he chatted much with them, but simply standing next to a Slytherin seemed to be taboo.

And after living in the Slytherin dormitories for a week, Hiei could see why. He'd been the victim of five prank attempts so far. None successful.

"So, Hiei and I will take seven classes each, Yuusuke will take six, and Kuwabara five... With this, we cover most of the classes Harry's group is taking."

"Can't we drop some more classes?" Yuusuke yawned, arms crossed behind his head as he rested back on a damaged desk. This room was full of them, and the only reason Hiei saw for them not to be fixed, was that they were cursed. An invisible hand kept writing insults on the wooden surface of Yuusuke's desk, and though they disappeared after a few seconds, more would just pop up. The desk in the corner was trying to throw little chips of wood at them: there was less than half of it left, and the floor was covered with pieces of it. Yuusuke had found this quite fun at first, but after twenty minutes of discussing Hogwarts' Academics, the male's interest just floated out of the room.

"If you can't keep up, you can drop them," Kurama conceded, his fingers drumming rhythmically on his own desk: this one kept sprouting branches randomly, but it didn't seem to bother Kurama in the slightest, even when a few nudged at his shoulders or tangled with his hair. "It would still be best to cover him as much as we can. If something happens that one of us alone can't handle," (Yuusuke snorted lightly) "we'll have backup."

"But nothing's happened yet," Kuwabara joined in from his spot near the door. The oaf was playing guard there. "And the dorm rooms look like they're safe."

"Koenma showed us reports of the castle's failing security on several occasions," Kurama argued. "I'm under the impression that the Grim Reapers will be trying to fix that, but we can never be too sure. And we've only been here for a week, it's normal things go slow."

"Alright, I got it." Yuusuke stood up, stretching his arms high over his head. The teenager looked much more comfortable with his usual clothes on, instead of the uniform. "Can we go, now? I'm starving."

With no complaints from anyone in the room, Yuusuke merrily went out of the room, his quick steps echoing in the hallway along with Kuwabara's. The room fell into a peaceful silence, the racket of the human teenagers not reaching as far as the third floor. After several second of this blissful quietness – Hiei did not and would never enjoy schools, magical or otherwise -- , the fire apparition finally gave in to the nudging sensation in the back of his head, allowing his eyes to meet with Kurama's. He arched an eyebrow quizzically when he spotted the fox's delusive smile. The redhead stood, just minutely pausing to tug his hair away from the desk's reach.

"Would you like to explore the Forest?" he asked charmingly. Of course the fox would be able to tell Hiei was eager to get away from here, and make the escape constructive at the same time.

* * *

It was only the first weekend since the classes had started, but Ron and Harry were already slouched over their plates at breakfast. Harry picked at his food slowly while he half-listened to Hermione's excited speech about the new subjects on the classes they were not sharing with her. He could not remember what had triggered it, but either way he was stuck with the complex explanations on a class Harry knew nothing about. One would think that after years of her lectures getting mere flat stares in response, the girl would have caught on with the fact that said lectures weren't welcome. It was not that the girl wasn't interesting, or the classes she took. But such a rant was not fit for such an early time in the morning.

The fact that Ron was too busy with seconds of the nearest plates in the table to aid Harry in distracting Hermione didn't please him too much, either. Harry sluggishly sipped some juice from his cup, the small glare he sent his friend going completely unnoticed.

Thankfully, a diversion made itself known with the sound of fluttering wings and a neatly-packed stack of papers fell heavily on Hermione's empty plate, just a few inches away from her bowl of oatmeal. The owl that fled from the scene looked as though it had seen better days, which made Harry wonder why Hermione had not yet complained of how Wizards exploited owls as well as House Elves (even if most of the owls here were well-kept and cared for). He wasn't about to bring up the issue, though, and gleefully continued to eat in renewed silence as Hermione unfolded the newspaper.

Out of the corner of his eye, in the front page, Harry could see an obviously clipped version of a photo of himself, one he did not recall having taken.

"Still no news on the furtive Death Eaters," Hermione sighed after a minute or two of skimming through the paper, her hand absently grabbing for her breakfast to eat while she read, something Harry was used to by now.

"What does it say about Harry?" Ron asked, cleaning the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand as he finally raised his head, the first thing he saw being Harry's face on the front page. There was a bit of paper-rustling while Hermione went back to that article, reading the crammed letters with ease.

"Something about him being the Chosen One, as usual," she filled in, before discarding the article. And Harry was glad she did. For the last week, he'd noticed how the Prophet seemed much kinder to him – Hermione had said that they were trying to make up for their rudeness, maybe hoping to get Dumbledore's good graces, or even Harry's. It was not often that the Prophet, so intent on making scandal and selling lots of copies, tried to kiss someone's ass, but it was more annoying than when they criticized every single move he made. At least people didn't speak ill about him behind his back. With the obvious exception of the Slytherins, but he didn't really care what their opinion on him was.

There were two weighty thuds as two teenagers took their seats across from the trio, landing roughly on the wooden bench after jumping over it.

"Hey, Potter's in the newspaper!" Yuusuke peeped in, catching sight of the article as he reached for the syrup between Hermione and Harry, his other hand finding a plate of warm pancakes. He received only minimum interest from Ron and Harry: students from other Houses had all the liberty to sit on other tables, so long as they were welcome. Being a friend of Kuwabara's and a benign-looking guy, no one in the table had anything to say against him. "What did you do, Potter? Kill a dragon before breakfast?"

"I didn't do anything," Harry said, feeling hot around the ears. The Asian exchange student gave a hearty laugh, picking up a fork and digging into breakfast, not noticing the lack of humor in Ron's face.

"They sure love to gossip about you," Kazuma joined, only after getting a mouthful of eggs down his throat.

"How much do you think his fans would pay for one of his used tissues?" Yuusuke asked through his chewing, earning a disgusted look from Hermione and a half smile from Harry.

The exchange students didn't seem to take Harry's story as The Boy Who Lived too seriously, which was a bit of a relief. Harry couldn't also help but wonder if they took Voldemort that lightly as well – that would be a mistake. The guy was very dangerous, and he didn't want anyone to get hurt because they didn't know what they were getting into. These guys didn't even seem to know of him until they made it here, what were the odds that they knew what Voldemort was capable of? Not only that, but Harry wasn't sure if they could really take care of themselves. Other than Kuwabara knocking a hole into one of the armors' helmet, there had been nothing to signal they had fighting abilities – simply possessing brute force had never helped in the magic community. And the magical skills Harry had seen from them in classes weren't too impressive, either...

Hopefully, they wouldn't get in any sort of magical conflict with their classmates, and much less with anyone related to Voldemort. The later would be exceptionally rare if it did happen, but given Yuusuke's attitude (or what he'd seen of it in classes), then it wouldn't take much longer for him to get into a fight here in the school.

A few late owls fluttered in through the windows, and Harry noticed how the foreign students sitting with them rose their eyes to follow their flight out of the Great Hall. They looked ready to dodge gross projectiles coming from the ceiling. A small smile came over his lips.

"Don't you get mail from owls in your school?" he asked.

"No," Yuusuke said easily, looking back at his breakfast once the birds were out of sight, as if to check there weren't any bird-gifts or feathers on it. "Keiko would have a fit if one of those things came flying into the classroom."

Harry didn't know who Keiko was, but it seemed obvious she was one of his acquaintances back in Japan.

"You haven't written to her since we got here," Kuwabara said. It was odd to see the guy scolding his friend – neither of them looked like very responsible people, although Kuwabara did make his bed before heading for classes every morning. Harry could only assume he didn't know House-Elves did it for them, as he didn't look like the sort of person to join Hermione's S.P.E.W.

"Don't remind me," Yuusuke grimaced, "She'd be beating the hell out of me if she could, for sure."

Harry felt a small pang of guilt that made him turn back to his breakfast, the last bits of appetite he had simply floating away. He stole a glance at the Professors' table, to the seat that had been empty every day after the welcoming feast, and caught Hermione doing the same. Her guilty look mirrored in his when she looked at him, and both turned towards Ron. His meal had not been interrupted, but he had slowed down a great deal, his eyes still glued to the large table sitting at the very front of the Great Hall. He was the first one to voice their concerns:

"You think we should go visit him?" he asked, a small grimace twisting at his lips as he lowered his fork, cleaning the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"We should," said Hermione readily, and Harry sipped the last of his pumpkin juice before getting to his feet. With how heavy the N.E.W.T. classes were being from the beginning, they hadn't been able to visit Hagrid and apologize for not joining his class. And he had been so excited about giving this year's classes. Harry was already prepared to get the cold shoulder, but hopefully, they would coax their friend into forgiving them. Hagrid had never been the sort of person to hold a grudge, anyway.

* * *

Well within the forest, out of hearing range for those outside it, the sound of the air being cut swiftly and a muffled screech startled a few birds off their perches. Thankfully, birds were smart enough not to make their nests in such a dangerous place, and the flock that hurriedly left the branches of the Forbidden Forest would not call much attention towards the spot.

"Charming place," Hiei grunted, wiping a blotch of dark blood from his cheek, where it had splashed while Kurama pulled his arm back towards his body, the long, thorn-covered whip in his hand reversing into a rose. "Your aim was off," the fire demon accused, his spelled-blue eyes focused on the still twitching arachnid corpse before them.

"I wanted to kill it, not split it in half," Kurama countered, taking a few steps towards the creature he'd just finished off. There was more than a single gash over it's body, making it look like it had been attacked by something feral out here. Which wouldn't be too odd, considering all that they had seen so far. They did not have the time to hide corpses, so faking non-suspicion deaths was required. If anyone noticed anything odd out here, it would be the Caretaker. And as Hiei had told him, the man had an odd liking to the Forbidden Forest and its inhabitants.

"Hn."

Side-stepping the bloody mess in the ground, Kurama followed Hiei out of the area, both demons making their way as silently as possible through the Forest. They did not want any more hostile attention, which didn't seem to be lacking in this place. Nothing they weren't used to, but given their mission, they couldn't just kill everything on their path and keep walking.

"No signs of Black," Kurama pointed out needlessly, his ears keen and eyes sharp to any sort of movement in the forest. "Maybe he's not here, after all. But he's bound to be somewhere near..."

"He hides his energy very well," Hiei offered. The redhead knew of the other's previous attempt at locating Black with his Jagan. Hiei had found no signs of the man around the grounds, and Kurama had a couple of theories regarding the reason, each one as unlikely as the last. If it was just that his Jagan did not work well with Seikoki, for example, the Reikai would have located him already. A plausible excuse would be that Black had no aura of his own, like the ghosts of Hogwarts. But he did recall feeling the man's energy, back in that night when they first saw Potter; there was also the rippling of energy he had felt when the white dog ran past him in the Ministry...

"Potter is our only lead." Kurama didn't sound too happy about this, but he'd come to accept how difficult this mission would be. He wasn't the sort to just conform with the situation, but to flow with it and twist such stream in his favor. He had already considered placing Potter in danger deliberately, but Koenma had warned them against that beforehand. Not being sure of Black's current abilities, they couldn't be too sure that the spirit wouldn't overpower them if it decided to go against them. None of them, not even Yuusuke, were ready to take on someone with Holy Light Energy available for attacking.

For all the front he put up for Yuusuke that morning, he too was a bit disappointed that the trouble-magnet Potter had not yet gotten into lethal trouble by himself.

"Hiei," Kurama called, looking away from the enticing blackish vines curled around a very large tree. He'd have to return to examine the plants here: they would make a good addition to his collection, and the climate they grew in was no excuse not to expand his collection. A bit of his energy could usually keep plants alive, regardless of the place they were native from. "What do you make of the Malfoy kid?"

"He's a prat." His opinion of the kid seemed very definite. Then again, Kurama was sure that if he asked, Hiei would give the same description about any human he'd met.

"I think you should keep an eye on him."

"He's not a threat," Hiei said, glancing at Kurama with an inquiring frown.

"But he might be," Kurama said puzzlingly, playing with the rose in his hand by slowly twirling it between his fingers. "We should play it safe. Watch out for unusual behavior if you can?"

"Hn."

Kurama nodded his appreciation, interpreting Hiei's monosyllabic replies masterfully. Despite the thoughts of many, Hiei was quite open about his emotions. One only had to learn to watch for them, instead of discarding them all as misanthropic anger.

He stopped his train of thoughts, however, as he noticed the uneven ground he'd just stepped into wasn't caused by mere erosion. It was like taking a step down a staircase, the soft ground of the area sinking under the pressure of a very big animal. As he took a few steps around it's shape, he recognized it as the print of a very, very large paw. No way this could be Black's. Still...

A rustling sound in the distance made Kurama turn his eyes, focusing on the canopy of leaves above and to the right of them. The wind blew in their direction, and he had the distinct desire of being in his fox form: his sense of smell was near flawless in that shape. Still, even in this human body, he could pick out a canine scent. Too intertwined with the earthy scent of the forest to be foreign, but with the lingering feeling that it did not belong here. Deeper in the forest, away from the castle, but obviously staying within boundaries: watching, guarding. Trained.

"What is it, fox?" Hiei called. Kurama was all too aware he'd been staring at the trees for longer than a minute, and he shook his head lightly.

"We should go back for the day," he said. They had been here nearly two hours: more than enough time to get a nice grip of the area surrounding the castle, and the castle grounds as well. They couldn't be out all day, lest they might rise suspicion.

"What is it?" Hiei repeated, a bit more sternly.

Kurama arched an eyebrow lightly at him. He had either overestimated Hiei's tolerance to the humans, or the fire apparition was actually upset with him. Either way, he wouldn't push it. "I think there's a Hell Hound in here," he said, his expression falling into a more obscure one. Hiei visibly tensed, his eyes narrowing as he double-checked the paw print Kurama was standing on. Kurama knew Hiei was running the possibilities in his mind. There were many kinds of oversized dogs in the three worlds. What were the odds of a Hell Hound winding up here, of all places?

"Fine," he conceded. "We'll retreat for today."

"Thank you," Kurama said, easing his shoulders, his grip on the stem of his rose tightening for a second as they changed direction, towards the castle that was hardly visible over the trees.

* * *

"He handled 'em very well! Skilled guy, I tell yeh. Never seen someone handle 'em Doxy so well in their first try! Not a single bite he got, tha' guy." Hagrid's tone was joyful, in the least, which left the three teenage wizards sitting in the hut a bit taken back.

They had been expecting a more angry welcome – the cold shoulder, at least, as Hagrid did not seem able to become too angry towards them. Still, they had been warmly welcomed into the hut when they arrived, fresh from breakfast. A few greetings and polite questions about their week later, Hagrid had started conversation about the reason for his delighted mood. Apparently, although none of his favorite students (or a single Gryffindor, for what mattered) had joined his N.E.W.T. level class, Professor Hagrid had been granted a student who was very talented in his loved subject. Furthermore, the guy did not seem thrown-off by Hagrid's tastes when it came to magical creatures.

"I don't think messing with Doxies without the proper equipment is good for a third year," Hermione commented softly. Her voice was a bit small, for once wanting to avoid lecturing someone: she was visibly glad that Hagrid was not upset with them, if not slightly left-out, and she did not want to ruin the mood by pointing out mistakes in his performance.

"He ain't a third-year. He's one o' those transfer students, from Asia," Hagrid said cheerfully.

"Oh," Hermione said, seeming only slightly relieved.

Harry, suspecting he was in the same train of thought, wondered what kind of magical creatures they had in Japan, if one of those guys could take Hagrid's classes so nonchalantly. Kuwabara and Yuusuke sure seemed out-of-it enough to try, but Harry couldn't picture Minamino in a class that involved such physical effort, much less the remaining shady member of the group.

"So why where you messing with Doxies, again?" Ron asked, eyeing the small plate of harsh-looking cookies Hagrid had set on the table for them to eat with their drinks. Harry was hoping earnestly that his friend wasn't considering trying one. Hagrid's culinary skills were to be feared.

"They were gatherin' in the trees near the Quidditch Pitch. Couldn't leave 'em there," Hagrid explained, serving himself another cup of the heavy juice they were all having. Despite him being the Professor of Care of Magical Creatures, the man still had to take care of Hogwart's fields. Doxies, as far as Harry could remember, were annoying little things that resembled a fairy, and were poisonous. They couldn't have those near the Quidditch Pitch. It would be hard enough to assemble the team without them, with all the kids that had signed up for tryouts in Gryffindor. And it would be Harry's job, as the new Captain, to decide who would be in the team this year.

And now that the topic came to mind, he did have to set up the announcement in the board at the Gryffindor Common Room.

Between the piling-up essays to make for next week, the once-more increased attention from his classmates, and worries about Sirius, he'd barely had any time to get to his Captain duties. He'd gotten plenty of experience setting up schedules for the D.A., but he still couldn't get used to the feeling of people depending on him like the team had once depended on Oliver Wood. The thought disturbed him as much as the first suggestion for Dumbledore's Army had.

Still, he didn't let that bother him. The simple chatter they were having with Hagrid was too nice to ignore, after pulling a week's worth of guilt all the way down here. Still, no meeting lasted forever, and it was after an hour of resting in Hagrid's hut that Hermione pointed out that Harry and Ron still hadn't started their Transfiguration essays. Due to Monday.

And Hagrid had never been one to belittle school work, even if he rarely left any himself, so he walked them cheerfully to the door.

"We'll come see you again soon," Hermione was promising.

Harry was too distracted with looking back and smiling agreeably to notice Ron had stopped in the steps just before Hagrid's door. An elbow to his side got his attention forward, though, and he caught a glimpse of red over Ron's shoulder. At first he thought it was just Ron's hair messing a bit with his sight, but after taking a step to the side, he still could see the blotch of red.

The realization that the red came from the Forbidden Forest made him clench his fists defensively, but only for as long as it took him to notice it was not blood.

"What are _they_ doing here?" Ron's voice carried both befuddled wonder and suspicion.

Hermione's hand went to Harry's shoulder for support, as she peered over Ron's head by tip-toeing on the highest step of Hagrid's doorway. The three wizards climbed down quickly when the half-giant came to stand on the entrance, their eyes still on the two figures that had walked out of the Forbidden Forest.

"_Crept out" is more like it,_ Harry couldn't help but thinking, watching the taller figure's head snap towards them in an instant. He didn't need to see the guy's face to know who it was, though: there were no sane students in Hogwarts who would knowingly go into the Forest, at least not in plain sight. Although, by the uneasiness the teenagers were showing, maybe they hadn't planned on getting caught.

"Hie'! What are yeh doin' there?" Hagrid called, his voice tense as any Professor's should be, upon finding out a pair of students had been in the forest without a teacher. Particularly two students that were not familiar with the dangerous creatures around here.

The figures several feet away exchanged glances for a brief moment, before starting their way.

While their features became clearer, Harry actually had to wonder if his first impression of them had been correct. They didn't really look perturbed, and the redhead (_Minamino_?) was even sporting a very well-mannered smile. Hiei's frown was not much signal of anything, other than the perpetual annoyed state he seemed to be in.

"Professor," the dark-haired Asian greeted, in such a tone that it seemed as if he was being forced to be polite. "I was showing Shuichi," again that same strained tone – it was too obvious to ignore, "our class project."

Harry shared an incredulous look with Ron. The creepy guy who lacked a family name was Hagrid's star student?

"Oh," Hagrid beamed. "Yeh like magical creatures too, Minamino?"

"They are undoubtedly interesting," Shuichi admitted, "but I'm afraid several of them have violent reactions to me. Bad luck, I guess," he shrugged with a single shoulder. "The hippogriff was lovely, though. Witherwings, was it?"

Harry felt Hermione's hand squeezing the area near his elbow. Before this summer, he would have appreciated the gesture more deeply. While any memory of Sirius still put Harry into a gray zone, lately he hadn't been able to become depressed again. The feeling was surely linked to the white-clad man, Sirius's blanched copy, who Harry was sure he'd seen in Privet Drive. He didn't like to bring it up, though, as it would get him this sort of pitying reactions from his friends. He didn't need pitying _and_ worried gazes if he dared suggest that it was really Sirius.

"Yes, one beauty it is," Hagrid agreed affably.

"Hagrid," Hermione cut in, trying with all her might not to sound impolite or rushed. "we need to leave now. Thanks for the drinks," she said with a smile, which Hagrid warmly returned, waving at them until they were a few ways up the hill. Harry glanced back once more before reaching the very top. He could still make out the two transfer students standing beside Hagrid. Chatting.

"That Hiei's odd," Ron voiced, the tall entrance to Hogwarts castle curving high above them, the looming sound of a bell beyond the stone walls marking the time to be sometime near midday. A group of first-year Gryffindors walked past them and to the grounds, surely to enjoy what was one of the first sunny days of the week. Winter was coming, and such days would become rarer with the thickening weather.

"I know," Harry agreed. And he didn't know if it was in a good or bad way: sure, Hiei had been put into Slytherin, but that he didn't hate Hagrid had to mean something, right?

"I think it's great that someone's taking Hagrid's class this year," Hermione argued, although her voice had obvious qualms as well.

Harry shook his head, pushing the thoughts away to focus on something more important. Like Sirius. So far, he'd left Hermione do all the researching: she did know the Library better than either of them did, and surely better than any other student in Sixth year. But, a voice in the back of his mind urged, how accurate could she be with the investigation, if she hadn't seen Sirius herself? There might have been a misunderstanding or two in his description of the man, after all...

And so, for once, he did not complain when Hermione pointed out that they would indeed go to the Library. While she was busy with her Ancient Ruins' essay, Harry would take a look around the Library for a book that might help him. If he didn't find anything, he could always go fetch the Invisibility Cloak and check the darkest section of the Library at night...

"Hey, watch it!" Ron snapped at a group of Slytherin second-years, that had rudely pushed past them. "Those little..."

"What's going on over there?" Hermione asked, frowning as she noticed where the students had gone off to. There was the sound of a small crowd just down the hallway.

Harry hastened his steps, driven more by curiosity than anything else. Down the stone passage and to the right, on one of the small courtyards located around the castle, the crowd they'd heard was thickening. Harry couldn't make out anything past it, even when he tip-toed: there were Seventh-year students near the front, obscuring his view.

"Whoa," Ron said, obviously not suffering the same hardship as he peered over the third and fourth-years by leaning over them. "Urameshi and Kuwabara are dueling."

Hermione's offended screech next to his ear made Harry wish Ron had remained quiet. A moment later, the bushy-haired female was shoving past the students with all the decorous rightness of an angry Prefect, which she happened to be. Harry and Ron followed, making use of the ripples in the sea of students to try and get to the front. There were several small cries, a small flash of blue above his head, and Harry could make out the sound of stone hitting stone. He pressed past Hermione and the last two Ravenclaw students hastily, his hand within his robes, the tips of his fingers on his wand by instinct.

The cheering and startled cries had died, though, and all that remained was a familiar voice, though it talked in an unfamiliar stern tone.

"A Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor!" Professor Sprout seemed at a loss, shaking her head while her hands rested on her plump hips, her gaze moving from one student to the other. Neither Yuusuke or Kazuma looked guilty in the least beneath her gaze. In fact, they appeared perplexed. "What were you thinking of, boy?" the woman continued, her eyes pinning Yuusuke in place, or at least attempting to.

"We were just sparring." The male murmured something else under his breath, which sent Kuwabara lunging towards him, and the two were locked in duel again. Well, a "fight" was more like it, since they weren't using anything but their fists, but it was essentially the same thing.

"That's enough! That's enough, Mr. Urameshi! Mr. Kuwabara!"

Harry caught Professor Sprout waving jerking her wand awkwardly, and the two males were pushed away from each other by an invisible wind. Each landed on their bum, and the chubby professor started tugging them both up by the arms, looking far more stern that she had ever looked in any of her classes.

"D-detention, Mr. Urameshi!" she said, shaking her head in disappointment as she guided them off, the word obviously odd in her own tongue. "And we'll go to Professor McGonagall about your behavior too, Mr. Kuwabara!"

Harry lost track of the grumbling that ensued, and the murmuring crowd around them began thinning as the students wandered off. Now that the courtyard was almost empty, Harry could easily see the cause of previous screaming: a piece of decorative edge was missing on one of the walls surrounding the courtyard, heavy chunks of stone piled just beneath the damaged structure.

Ron kicked at one of the stones, managing to roll it to the side.

"What spell did they use to do this?" he asked, puzzled, looking up at the lacking edge.

"Why would they aim it to each other?" Harry changed, a worried frown over his face. He'd seen those two fight a few times through the week… but they had never exhibited this sort of violence, and they certainly seemed friendly enough when they fought.

...Or, had this been a "friendly fight", too?

Harry made up his mind with a bit of unease: he would try to pay more attention to the silent exchange students, from now on.


End file.
